Over My Head
by skamusic4
Summary: Alex Rider has once again been bribed into one of MI6's ploys. This time, it's to investigate rumors about a company that experiments on children. When he meets six young, helpless birdkids, Alex proves to once again be in over his head. fax later...
1. Chapter 1

_**Over My Head**_

_An Alex Rider/Maximum Ride Crossover_

**AN: This takes place after Skeleton Key and before The Angel Experiment. (:**

-Chapter 1-

Wings. Long black wings, stretched out on either side of me as I coast through the air above London. The clouds are swelling, ready to break. I have something to do but can't remember what, so I keep on coasting with my long black wings.

An airplane flies by, and Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones are in it. Blunt gives me a look as bland as every expression he makes. I stick my tongue out at him. Screw MI6 and all their crap—I'm going to do whatever I want. I've got wings now.

Only—something is going wrong. The plane gets dangerously close, and I feel myself getting sucked in. I pump my wings but only succeed in going backwards at a faster rate. Now my left wing is caught in a propeller, and I give out a blood-curling scream.

"No!" I cry. "Not again! No!" In the window of the plane, Blunt is smiling.

—

I woke with a start and glanced at the clock. 6:34. I had some time before I had to get ready, but no longer did I feel like sleeping. Instead, I rolled groggily out of bed and began to change into my uniform.

When I went downstairs for breakfast, Jack as still cooking it. I peeked over her shoulder and into the pan; scrambled eggs and hash browns.

"Nightmare?" Jack guessed at my early rising.

"Yeah," I admitted ruefully. "How'd you guess?"

"The moaning," she replied. "Oh, no, not again!" She mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

"Shut up," I muttered, punching her arm playfully.

"Seriously, though. Do you need to talk?"

"No thanks, Dr. Phil. Even normal kids get nightmares." She gave me a look but let it go. I sat down at the table to wait for breakfast, still half asleep. Summer had been fun, spent with Sabina, but now school was back in session. I couldn't bring myself to dread school, though, because I hadn't heard from MI6 since the business with Sarov and the CIA. Maybe, I thought with a hint of naïve hope, they were done with me.

Breakfast was served, and Jack took the seat next to me.

"So, any plans for after school today?" She wondered.

"I was thinking about kicking the ball around with some guys to practice for playoffs, why?"

"Oh, just because I'm not going to be home later."

"How come?" Jack looked away, like she didn't want to say anything more. I raised my eyebrows.

"It's just that, with your uncle gone, I'm not getting paid by anyone anymore. The mortgage bills on this house are enormous, and you should just see what the car insurance companies charge me. So, in a short, I need to get a job soon, or I won't be able to keep up with the bills." I blinked. Money had never been an issue with my family—Ian got paid a big whopping amount from MI6. Even though he wasn't working anymore, there had to be enough in there still.

"What about his will?" I wondered out loud. "Didn't he leave money for you in his will? Aren't you able to get into his account?"

"There's still a lot of money," she admitted. "But it's going to get used up at some point. I did the calculations, and if there isn't some sort of steady income, we're going to run out. We need to think ahead, Alex. We need to put away money for your university fund, your first car—and when we buy that, our insurance rates will sky-rocket—and so many other things. The fact of the matter is that I need to get a job sometime within the next year or so. I'm sorry. I'm going to try to find something part-time, though, okay?"

I felt hollow. I always thought that I was financially set, with all that Ian had collected over the years. But Jack was right. Our house was huge and our Mercedes wasn't going to pay for itself. It struck me as wrong, though, that Jack—who was on the job just being here—should have to work an additional job.

"How about _I _get a job," I suggested. She looked at me flatly.

"You're fourteen, Alex. You need to focus on grades at this point. You've missed so much school, it's a wonder you haven't fallen too far behind." I pouted, but she was right. I was still making up work from the last time MI6 used me.

"Anyway," she huffed. "I have an interview at McDonald's. Wish me luck."

"_McDonald's_?" It was bad enough that Jack was going to work, but a talented woman who suffered through university working at McDonald's? I imagined her saying, 'Would you like fries with that?' and shuddered.

"It's the only place that called back so far. It doesn't mean I'm working there; I just need to keep my options open. Now hurry up and get ready or you'll be late."

I sighed and brought my plate to the sink, gathered my books and brushed my teeth. My feet felt heavy with guilt as I mounted my bike and headed to school.

—

On my way home from school, I stopped at a candy store to by Jack some M&Ms. She had a sweet tooth, and I thought maybe the candies would cheer her up a little. I bought the biggest bag I could find.

As I walked to my bike from the shop, though, the hairs on the back of my neck pricked up. I had the strange sensation that somebody was watching me. Nobody seemed to be out at this time of day, especially in this part of the city. I did a 360 degree turn and saw no one.

I made my way to my bike on high alert, wondering what it would be _this_ time. What was going to terrorize me today?

All of the sudden, my vision blurred. The bag of M&Ms fell to the floor. My eyes felt droopy, and I couldn't lift my feet. _What's happening? _I wondered. I felt dizzy, and I was vaguely aware that I had fallen to my knees. Within seconds, I was unconscious.

—

I'm not sure how long later it was that I woke up. I slowly opened my eyes to the glaring florescent lighting above me. As my vision adjusted, I realized that I was in an office—and a bland one at that. There were no pictures or paintings, no décor whatsoever. Just a desk, a few chairs, a shelf of boring-looking books, and the small couch I was laying on.

It was Blunt's office.

I internally groaned. Not this again. What did they want me to do now? Dismantle an atomic bomb because my fingers were just the right size?

A few seconds after I opened my eyes, the owner of the room walked in, followed by Mrs. Jones.

"Rider," he greeted.

"Blunt," I responded brusquely. He and Mrs. Jones sat down in the two chairs behind his desk.

"Sit down," he said, nodding to the open chair across from them. I reluctantly obliged. Mrs. Jones was looking at me with something like pity.

"We have an assignment for you," Blunt started.

"I told you, I'm done with MI6,"I said, as calm as I could manage.

"Listen, first. This is a very low-risk assignment, and it might actually be fun for you. It involves traveling to America—"I tried to interrupt but he stopped me. "—but you will still be supervised by us, not the CIA, although we are working with them. You see, there is a company that we heard is doing illegal experimentation on children around the world, and we need to find out what's going on in case the rumor is true. Both we and the CIA have sent agents to one of the locations that is said to be the sight of experimentation, but they haven't been able to infiltrate. They discovered, however, that the company is looking for a fit teenage male to work in the lab, and in the past they have drawn experiments and employees from an orphanage located near this lab.

"If you agree to work with us, we will send you to this orphanage. Since there are no other teenage boys there at the time it is likely they will pick you. All you have to do is keep your head up and contact us, with gadgets that Smithers will supply."

"Wait," I said, unable to hold my peace any longer. "So you want me to go to this orphanage that a dangerous company steals children from in hopes that I, too, will get stolen? If they're looking for an employee, why would they go looking in an orphanage? No part of this sounds low-risk, much less fun."

"Our theory is that they take employees from the orphanage in case something happens to them in the lab, so the company will not get sued," Mrs. Jones supplied. Lovely—now I have to worry about 'something' happening to me in the lab, too.

"What makes you think I will say yes to this?" I probed. "How could you think I would possibly agree to this?"

"Tell, me, Alex, where is that house-keeper of yours today?" Blunt asked, drastically changing the subject. I made no answer. "You're money must be beginning to dwindle. What if you run out?"

My stomach dropped as I realized where this was headed.

"You can't bribe me with money," I spat.

"Six-hundred thousand pounds is a lot of money," Blunt mused, staring directly and emotionlessly into my eyes. "If you agree to do this small, easy mission, there will be six-hundred thousand pounds sitting in your own bank-account." I thought of Jack in the window of McDonalds. 'Do you want fries with that?'

How could I pass up that large sum of money and make Jack, after all she's done for me, work in a dingy, low class fast-food restaurant? How could I make her work at all, when she was working for me every day?

The whisper of six-hundred thousand pounds scratched at my core. It was a _lot_ of money. We would be set, at the very least until college, when I could get my own job. The humane part of me argued that I was selling my soul. Maybe I was. The sane part of me protested that they wouldn't pay that sum of money for an easy, low-risk mission. Maybe it wasn't.

"Fine," I agreed quietly, while the rest of me screamed not to. I wasn't doing this for them, though. I was doing it for Jack.

**AN: Quick favor to ask: if anybody knows how old Max and the gang were when Jeb got them out of the school, could you PM or write it in a review? I rented the first book from the school library forever ago so I can't go look it up :/ Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**AN: Hey everybody! Sorry it's been a while…I've kept busy, thus neglecting some of my stories. Plus, making up gadgets is probably the hardest part—I have to get creative. So, after wracking my brain some time, this is what I've come up with:**

"Alex!" Cried the only person at MI6 that I found amiable, the only one of them that I didn't mind to be in the same room with.

"Hey, Smithers," I responded. I took a seat at his desk, sitting across from him. "What have you got for me?" If there was one thing that I actually liked about being a spy, it was Smithers' gadgets. I never knew what he was going to come up with next.

"Ah, I must admit, this situation has posed a slight challenge. Children at orphanages don't often have a lot of personal items, after all. They told me the possibility of this mission a few months back, and although I do think it's a bad idea to involve you again, I think what I have will be of great use to you." He reached behind him and pulled out a small gold, heart-shaped broach, and placed it into my hands

"If anybody asks, this was your mother's broach. What it really is, though, is what I call a micro-microphone. It's a tiny microphone, so small it won't be detected if someone searches you for bugs, and whatever you say into it will be accessible by us. We can choose to tap in ourselves to check on you, or you can spin it three times, counterclockwise, to get our attention; it's like a phone call, except one-sided." I nodded and stuffed it into my pocket. The next device Smithers pulled out was a pair of square-framed glasses.

"Reading glasses," Smithers announced, placing them on the table in front of me. "Well, to anybody, that's what they will see. A little boy with astigmatism. However, these glasses are actually equipped with advanced technology. If you twist the nose piece, these ordinary glasses are transformed into x-ray goggles, enabling you to see through materials such as almost any type of metal, wood, concrete, plaster and plastic. That's not all, though." He placed in front of him two separate pairs of lenses. "The lenses that are slightly tinted blue can be used to detect metal. For instance, if you have these on, and somebody has a knife in their boot, the metal of the knife will stand out in a bright blue color, no matter how well it is concealed."

"That could come in handy," I noted. "And the sunglass lenses?" He picked up the pair of lenses that was tinted a dark black color.

"California is sunny," Smithers replied with a shrug. "You can clip these on over whatever lenses you have on to block out the UV rays." I smiled at the simplicity.

"Thank you," I said, glad that somebody around here wasn't serious _all_ the time.

"Any time. Now, this next gadget may not be very fashionable, but bear with me." He set on the table a floral button-up t-shirt, the kind you see cliché tourists wearing.

"This gadget is supposed to prevent anybody from being attracted to me, right?" I guessed. Smithers laughed a loud, hearty chuckle.

"Ah, the boy does have a sense of humor! No, this is actually highly explosive. Each button creates an explosion, each a different size. The first creates one about the size of quarter; the next, about the size of a child's fist, and so forth. The bottom button will explode to create a good, Alex-sized crater in case you need a quick escape."

"How do you activate them?" I wondered, imagining myself going to button the shirt and blowing my fingers off.

"Oh, right! Well, you only need to snap them in half, and then you have 5-20 seconds, depending on the button, to get away." I nodded, and folded the shirt carefully.

"Oh, and by the way," he added, "it's bullet-proof. Not that you should be getting shot at, but just in case." MI6 better _hope_ I wouldn't be getting shot at.

"Finally, we have your escape system, in case you need to get out of somewhere, fast." He placed a pair of old, tattered Converse on the table. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Are we going old school for this one?" Smithers grinned.

"Yes. If you find yourself in a bad situation, run as fast as you can. No, Alex, you need to have faith in me. See, these laces are made with the same material I used in your yo-yo. The aglet here," he gestured to the tip of the shoelace, "turns into a tiny claw. Underneath the tongue is a small compartment containing extra lace, so it will expand for about a kilometer."

"Ninja sneakers," I mused. "That's pretty cool." Smithers smiled again, probably proud of himself, as I gathered all my new gadgets.

"Now Alex. I want you to be careful, you hear?" I nodded, unsure what to say. Once I was all packed up, I thanked him again, and went on my way.

It didn't occur to me until I was pulling into my driveway that I'd lost Jack's M&Ms. I cursed to myself, upset that MI6 was forever interfering in my life, but there was not much I could do about it.

Tentatively I walked up the steps. How was I going to tell Jack about all of this? I didn't even have chocolate to make her less mad. I reached for the door nervously, but was surprised when it suddenly jerked open.

"Alex," hissed a fuming Jack. "Where have you been?" I deliberated for a second between telling the truth and, well, not.

"Uh—"

"Tom called," she continued. "Wondering why you weren't at the soccer fields. We don't have a lot of rules around here, but I would really appreciate if you would tell me where you were going. How hard is it to shoot me a text message, or stop in really quick?" I frowned, feeling another burst of vexation at MI6.

"I was on my way home, actually. But then MI6—"

"MI6? Good God, Alex, please tell me you're not going to work for them again." Biting my lip, I tried to figure out a way to tell her what I was doing without making it sound _that_ bad.

"How was your interview?" I asked politely, deciding to work up to it.

"It was fine, thanks, but don't go trying to change the subject." She gave me a probing look.

"Okay, well, you don't have to worry about McDonalds, because MI6 is going to pay me."

"How much?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Six hundred thousand pounds." The anger in her face quickly dissipated, replaced with a complaisant smile.

"Well it's about time. That's wonderful, Alex! I was beginning to wonder whether they would ever reward you for all you've done. So, when are they going to fork it over?"

"After the mission." Jack stopped short, looking all disapproving again.

"You mean, you _are_ going on another mission?" I nodded solemnly.

"They offered that much money; I would have had to be an idiot to not agree. It's pretty low risk, though, and it won't take me long." In truth, I had no idea how long it would take, but I wanted to make it seem as desirable as possible.

"I don't see why they can't just pay you that much for all the times you've already helped them," she grumbled. She then looked up at me for a few minutes before sighing. "I can't tell you not to go. I just really hope this is your last time with them—after this, I don't care if they offer you a yacht, or a country, or a planet, you better not say yes."

"I won't, I promise. I just didn't want you to have to work, after all you're doing for me. It'll be quick and painless, though—I'll be back before you know it, and we won't have to deal with MI6 ever again."

I wish I had known, then, that I would eat my words. If I had known how _not_ quick, and _not_ painless it would be once I was there, I probably wouldn't have agreed to this. But as it stands, I had no way of knowing how completely in over my head I was.

**AN: What did you think of the gadgets? Lame? I tried! (:**

**PS. I'll try to update faster, but tomorrow I have my volunteering at the hospital, and Friday I'm hanging out with my friends, so Saturday at the earliest is my guesstimation. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AN: Hey guys! In case you're wondering why I dropped off of the face of the planet, it's because I'm on vacation; I have been since the 30****th****, and I'm staying until the 13****th****. There's no wifi at our cottage, but occasionally we boat into an area with free wifi. Like now. So enjoy the next chapter, and I hope I will be able to post another chapter soon. (:**

I got a call the next morning, at about 7:30. Since I was leaving today, I hadn't gone to school; I had to catch my plane at 1:45.

"You are not going to the Peace Corps," was what I was greeted with.

"Wha…?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and stretching out.

"Ms. Hubert just told us, first period of the day, that you wouldn't be coming to school for a while, because you'd joined the Peace Corps and were leaving for Kenya. Come on, man. You would have told me, wouldn't you?" Tom demanded. I blinked, realizing that someone at MI6 must have come up with this excuse to get me out of school.

"Yeah, sorry. I've been thinking about it for a while, and last night they called me to tell me there was an opening. I've been too busy with preparation to call you. I'll be back soon, though." I thought I lied pretty well, especially for it being so early.

"Are you serious? Why the heck would you want to go to _Africa_?"

"I, ah, just want to help the less fortunate."

"The less fortunate? Dude, _I'm_ the less fortunate. At least, I'm going to be, once we lose every soccer game for the rest of the year!" I sighed, made up some crap about staying in touch, and hung up.

Jack came into my room, looking frazzled and disheveled.

"Do you have everything?" She asked. I glanced at the small burlap sack at the foot of my bed.

"Yep." She bit her lip.

"You better be careful," she said. "And I really hope that this mission is as easy as you say it is." I smiled reassuringly.

"It is," I promised. "It's like a vacation." She narrowed her eyes; that _is_, after all, what they said last time.

One o'clock rolled around, and an MI6 car came to pick me up. I said goodbye to Jack, assuring her again that I would be fine, and stepped into the car.

Thus began one of my biggest missions yet.

I sat in the plane with two large security guards, and my old friend Crawely.

"Alex Harrison," Crawely greeted. I raised my eyebrows. "That's your new name for the next couple weeks. You lived in England for your childhood, which explains why you don't have an American accent. You're parents died in an accident when you were seven. That's when you were sent to live with your aunt, Charlotte, in California, but she died recently, hence the orphanage."

"Got it."

"Now, report anything suspicious immediately. We need any and every clue we can get."

"I understand."

"Of course you do, Alex," Crawely said, eyeing me sharply. "I have all the faith in the world that you'll be out of here quickly." Something sounded off in his voice, though. It sounded like he didn't believe what he said, like he was just saying it routinely.

"Is there anything else I should know?" I asked wearily. He handed me a file.

"Everything you need to know is in this file," he replied. There wasn't much in the file; just a couple papers describing my 'other' life, a map titled "Death Valley", and a few pictures of "suspicious person(s)" and their names. In other words, it was nothing that I didn't already know.

"Are you _sure_?" I probed. Crawely looked me straight in the eye.

"I'm positive." I was satisfied with his answer—then. Later, after everything had happened, I would look back on that moment and feel the most emotion. As stoic as I might get in my affiliation with MI6, I don't know if I could ever look someone right in the eye and lie through my teeth. Everyone else could.

I fell asleep about half way through the ride, sinking into the incredibly comfortable seat I sat in. I was out for a little while in dreamless sleep, when I was shaken awake. I rubbed my eyes.

"What's the emergency?" I asked.

"None. We're landing." I glanced out the window, expecting palm-trees but seeing nothing but buildings.

"Where, exactly?" I wondered.

"JFK airport; we need to board a connecting flight to LA, where we will take a security vehicle to the orphanage." I rose from my seat, stretching out like a cat.

"It's a good thing you got a lot of sleep on the flight," Crawely added as I pulled my knapsack out of the overhead compartment, "I'm not sure if you'll be getting any in a while."

The 'security vehicle' was, in fact, a black Toyota SUV. I vaguely wished they would bring me in a Porche, or perhaps a nice Ferrari, but apparently I wasn't important enough to travel high class. Crawely left me as I got in, and I was then accompanied by two bulky agents.

"Hello," I said to one of them, just for the sake of conversation. He looked out the window, ignoring me. I tried with the other, receiving the same response. Shrugging, I submitted to a ride of silence.

After a long, awkward ride, a sign caught my eye reading, 'Melfoy Children's Orphanage, 1 mile'.

"Excuse me," I piped up. The agent in the passenger seat spared a glance at me. "Is Melfoy where I'm going?" He gave a curt nod. My stomach felt a tiny bit queasy, like the night before the first day of school.

Hastily, I gulped down any emotions that had popped up. I was a trained agent, not a Power Puff girl. Focus was key.

We were at the orphanage within minutes, greeted by an aged wooden sign with the name of the establishment written in thick black paint. We had to drive up a long stone driveway to get to the actual building, which was hidden by trees.

When we did get to the building, I decided that the air it gave off was not particularly _welcoming_. The word that came to mind was, _threatening_.

It stood about three floors high, and the teal paint was chipping everywhere. The windows looked dirty and old, and the whole thing looked out of repair.

"Home sweet home," I muttered to myself. I was escorted out of the car, and walked slowly up to the haunted mansion with my best friends, the body-guards. When we got inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't too bad. The furniture was classy; intact but slightly out-dated. There was a mahogany desk right where I walked in, and at it sat a younger-looking woman with light hair and eyes. She looked up and smiled.

"Hi!" She greeted. "Welcome to Melfoy Children's Orphanage. I'm Sunny, the intern. Who have we got here today?"

"Alex Harrison," one of my friends replied gruffly. She nodded eagerly and typed 'my' name into her computer.

"All righty! Alex, you can go play with the others while we work on some legal points. You're going to love it here!" I was then shooed off to, achem, 'play with the others.' Sunny pointed to a door that read, _Play Room_. I trusted that not many other kids my age usually lived here.

Nevertheless, I entered the room. Just as I had expected, I walked into a dungeon of pastels and teddy-bears.

There were several mom-aged monitors in the room, and they were easy to pick out, because pretty much everybody else was under three feet. To say in the least, there were a lot of kids. Infants, toddlers, whatever comes after that; tall kids, short kids, fat kids, thin kids, older kids, younger kids. I felt like I was at the Disney ride_, It's A Small World_; not only was it, literally, a very small world in here if you omitted the aids, but everybody was a different ethnicity.

And then, in the back corner, scribbling on a piece of paper, was a teenager of about 16. Although he was scrunched up, I could tell that he was tall and lanky, and although he was wearing a hood, I could see bits of black hair poking out here and there. I began making my way towards him.

"Hello, you must be our newest child!" Interrupted one of the aids; a short, chunky Latin-American woman with bright red lipstick.

"Um, yeah. I'm Alex."

"Alex! We've been expecting you. Can everybody say, 'Hello, Alex'?" A few kids said it, while most of them just mumbled something unintelligible. "Would you like me to explain to you how things work around here?"

"I think I can figure it out on my own," I said, with my most polite smile. "Thank you."

"If you ever want to know anything, feel free to just ask!" I smiled again and promised her that I would. When I looked back to the teenager, I saw that I had caught his attention. He looked at me for a few minutes, and then went back to whatever he was writing. Curious, I continued toward him.

"I'm Alex," I said when I was close enough. He looked up again.

"Charlie," he replied with a nod.

"How is it here?" Charlie shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. They give us a tolerable amount of freedom, but tend to treat everybody like a little kid. Which is great, you know, if you're a little kid; but for a sixteen year old, it gets old fast."

"That's as much as I suspected," I noted. "How long have you been here?"

"Four months and seven days." He thought for a second, and then said, "I'm leaving in a few days, though."

"Is somebody adopting you?" I wondered, glad to see _someone's_ life was looking up.

"Kind of." I raised an eyebrow, and he was obliged to continue. "I'm going to work for this company that offered me a job in a lab. They're offering room and board as a fringe benefit." My stomach dropped. It was clear to me that Charlie had been recruited by Itex, and even though I'd just met him, I felt scared for him. He _wasn't_ a spy; he was just a pawn in this game. Well, as far as I knew.

"What are you going to be doing?" I asked nonchalantly, trying not to give myself away.

"I'm not particularly sure," he admitted. "They were kind of vague when they talked to me. But they seem like good sort of people, people who just want to help me out. I think they knew my dad, or something."

"That's cool," I lied. "I hope everything works out for you." And by that I meant, that I hoped Itex wasn't a psycho company that performed dangerous and sometimes fatal experiments on unwilling children.

"Me too," Charlie replied grimly. "If something goes wrong, I don't know if I could take it."

**AN: What do you guys think of Charlie? I just came up with him a few days ago, and I have a lot of ideas for him. He's the only major OC I'm going to introduce, and though his role won't be HUGE, I want to see what you guys think of him so far, with this little sneak peek. Let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

-Chapter Four-

**AN: Hey guys! I finally updated! Phew, thank God for long weekends and homecoming dances and PLAN tests that give you half days (cough tomorrow cough) so you don't have to do your homework and can instead update much neglected Fanfiction stories. **

Over the next few days, Charlie and I got real close. We didn't have a whole lot in common; where I was into sports and outdoorsy stuff, he was more of a musical, artsy guy. Yet, despite our personality differences, we shared one big thing in common: we were both orphans. Since we were around the same age, and there wasn't really anybody else above seven, we found ourselves talking a lot. He told me about his home, about how his dad died before he was born, and his mom died when he was ten. I wanted to tell him about my _real_ parents, about what _really_ happened, but that was out of the question. So, I fed him Alex Harrison's story.

Three days after my arrival, I walked into the breakfast room and found him writing in a notebook, the same one from the first time I saw him.

"What are you writing?" I asked, taking my usual seat next to him.

He didn't look up as he answered, "Poetry." I raised my eyebrows, not really expecting him to be the poetry type. I let him write though; I wasn't one to pry. He handed me the notebook after a few minutes, and I read what he wrote.

Tomorrow, by Charlie Keller

_Tomorrow, I will leave this place/ Like an astronaut heading off to space/ Like a baby turtle heading off to sea—/ I only hope nothing ends up eating me./ I only hope that the world doesn't swallow me whole,/That I don't lose my heart, that I don't lose my soul./That I end up successful, whatever that means/ That I keep my chin up, that I keep my hands clean. / Tomorrow, everything will change/ The world I see will look quite strange/ For I haven't seen outside these walls/ Since just about the beginning of Fall/ And if something goes wrong, no one is there/ To help me out, to give a care/ But somehow, I will get along/ For my parents, I will have to stay strong./ With apprehension in my veins/ I'll board the nine-thirty train/ Because tomorrow, I will leave this place/ Like an astronaut heading off to space._

"How incredibly emo am I?" He asked sheepishly, watching my reaction. I grinned.

"It's really good," I said. "How long did it take you to write it?"

"A few minutes," he replied with a shrug. "It's not that hard to write what you feel, you know?"

I nodded, although I personally could not write to save my life. "So, you're nervous then?"

"Of course I am. I mean, I'm going to be completely on my own. Wouldn't that freak you out a little?"

"You get used to it."

He glanced at me, no doubt wondering how I knew this, considering I had supposedly been under the care of my aunt for years before coming here. For some reason, though, I didn't feel like spinning a lie to cover my tracks. Pretty soon, Charlie would leave. Who was he going to tell if he thought I was suspicious? Besides, there was a sort of camaraderie between us, and I had a feeling he wouldn't jump the gun on assuming anything about me.

"Let's hope so," he retorted finally before closing his journal and heading off to pack.

The following day, I stood next to Charlie in the waiting room as several men filed into the room.

"We've been sent by our employers to fetch the child," the spokesman of the group said. "The train leaves soon, so we must move fast."

Charlie picked up his duffle bag, and I saw the tentatively in his eyes, clear as day. But it went beyond that. Fear, as well, was painted plainly on his face.

"You'll do great," I lied, trying to be consoling. My words caught the attention of the spokesman, and he fixed a pair of green, catlike eyes on me.

"Hello, who is this?" He wondered. One of the orphanage people smiled obliviously.

"This is Alex Harrison," she said happily.

"I thought you told my employer that there was only one teenager here?"

"Oh, Alex only arrived a few days ago."

The spokesman advanced toward me, his eyes studying me as if I was on display at a museum. I stared back steadily and fearlessly. The man in front of me was tall and slender, with sharp features and black hair slicked back with gel. He circled me like a lion on the prowl.

"I want a physical report on this one," he told the orphanage lady. "We will be back in a few weeks if everything is up to snuff." The lady smiled again, but this time it appeared to be forced.

"But Alex only arrived four days ago. He's only just getting his bearings."

The man fixed his eyes on her with a more delicate expression. "We are extremely short staffed, and need all of the help that we can get," he explained calmly. "We come to orphanages in order to give these children an opportunity for a better life. If you want what is best for this young man, you will do as we say and have a physical report ready by the end of the week."

Her smile faltered. It was Thursday. "All right," she said anyway. "We'll have his information ready for you."

The man grinned, but it didn't look happy. He again reminded me of some sort of feline, smiling down at his prey before he takes a big bite.

"We will stay in touch," he told her. "Come, Charles." Slinging Charlie's bag over his shoulder, the spokesman slunk out of the room, his men following. Charlie was the last to leave, his footsteps slow and unsure.

"Bye," He mumbled.

"Bye, Charlie," the orphanage lady and I said in accord.

Those were the last words I ever said to him.

After Charlie left, I sat on my cot in the large room that I shared with several other kids and reflected on the recent events. The shrewd man who had picked up Charlie and eyed me like a prey made me uneasy. Put simply, if I could put a face to all of my fears about Itex, it would be his.

I stared up at the ceiling, regretting my promise to Jack that the mission would be quick and easy. I couldn't back out and call the higher-ups now; I owed more to Charlie. Maybe I only knew him for a short time, but I felt like it was my duty to save him from the fate he'd fallen into. I had this macabre feeling that I was the only one who could help Charlie now; if MI6 tried to send anyone else, I was sure it would be too late. It depressed me to think of how once again someone else's life was in my hands, how once again it wasn't just my neck on the line. Once again, I was in a squeeze too tight to slip out of.

And such I sat for the rest of the day, consumed in my own morose thoughts. I had skipped lunch earlier but by dinner time my hunger was too desperate to ignore. At the sound of my name, I slunk out of the room and down to the dining hall.

The chefs at the orphanage were certainly not high quality. The food reminded me of the food they served at my school: bearable, but not something particularly looked forward to. I ate in silence, as usual, my head beginning to ache as the small children screamed and giggled. Some people think a child's laughter is the most precious thing in the world; such people clearly do not spend enough time around children.

By the time I had finished my dinner, the lady who had talked to the shrewd man at Charlie's departure approached me. She wore a name-tag that read "Sharon".

"Alex, we're going to go on a trip today. Isn't that exciting?"

I glanced at her somberly. "What kind of trip?" I inquired.

"To the doctor's office! They were nice enough to agree to giving you a physical on such short notice. If everything goes well, you might just be able to go off and work in the same place as Charlie," she explained, as if I had been deaf for the whole conversation in the morning. "Would that interest you?" I tried to look hopeful.

"Of course," I replied, as cheery as I could. "That would be a great opportunity." She smiled, satisfied with my answer. I knew I didn't sound convincing, but she had other things to deal with. She would happily hear a happy compliance over a forced lie. People like Sharon hear what they wanted to hear.

"I'm thrilled to hear that. We will leave in about a half an hour." I vaguely wondered what doctor's office was open after dinner time, but I figured she had pulled some strings to get me in and tried not to question.

The doctor's office appeared to be like any other, but the staff was certainly like no nursing staff I had ever come across. Nobody greeted us when we came in, despite the fact that we were the only ones in the room and the receptionist was looking right at us. Several minutes after Sharon signed us in, my alias was called in a shrill, cold voice.

"Alex Harrisburg."

I followed a harsh-looking woman dressed in scrubs into a room, where she told me to wait for the doctor. When he came in, the usual tests were done: height, weight, eyes, hearing, etc. But then other tests were performed.

He led me into a room toward the back, and in the middle was a weight set. I was asked to bench press ten reps with what was on the bar, and I did so easily. He then added five pounds to each side and asked me again for ten reps. The weight gain continued until I could no longer lift the bar, and the doctor scribbled some things onto his clip-board. I had lost count of how much I was lifting by the time I had finished the test.

I was then handed a pair of swim trunks and a swim cap. I eyed them warily as the doctor explained that next was the swimming test.

"Where exactly will this be done?" I asked. He looked at me like I was stupid.

"In the pool, of course. There is a changing room over there. Exit through the door marked 'pool'."

I stared at the doctor for a few moments, more than a little bit suspicious. What doctor's office has a pool, much less a changing room and a weight room? I was starting to get the feeling that I wasn't really in a doctor's office, a conviction that chilled me to the bone. Because if I wasn't in a doctor's office, where the heck was I?

I entered the changing room, and was immediately struck by the sight of a camera. _A camera in a changing room?_ As if things weren't weird enough already.

I changed in the bathroom stall, inspecting the swimsuit thoroughly (for what, I didn't know), and feeling deeply grossed out. I only hoped that they had washed the damn thing.

The pool was the size of the pool in my old school, and I was asked to swim from one end to the other as fast as I could while the doctor timed. I was then asked to swim back and forth until I could paddle no longer.

If there was any doubt before, I now knew for sure that this wasn't just an annual physical, and that this wasn't just a doctor's office. I felt ridiculous as I padded quickly back and forth, wondering what would happen if I hadn't known how to swim. How would I know when to stop? There wasn't even a life-guard in sight.

It was on my seventh lap that I saw it. I was pushing off the wall when my eyes were caught on a familiar emblem, and though it did not register at first, my mind put it together as I continued to swim. It was the Itex logo, on a banner behind the pool. I was not getting a physical; I was being tested.

Tested for experimentation.

I shook the thought out of my head quickly, trying to keep an open mind. If they really did want me for work, they would want to be sure that I was physically fit.

_But why would I need to swim?_

The whole thing felt awkward and illegal. How could a company do things like this and not get caught? Did Sharon think this was a regular appointment, or was she in on this too?

My mind was still racing when my arms and legs ached to stop. I pulled myself to the edge of the pool, and the 'doctor' informed me that I had a twenty minute break before the running portion. I was physically exhausted, and it had to be getting late. Did they really expect me to run? And what was I supposed to do for twenty minutes?

It felt like the training I had to go through before MI6, except worse. At least then, I was not alone, and I knew that I could at least trust MI6. Here, I had no idea what was going on, and I was utterly alone.

The thought brought rise to a whole other one, one that was very disturbing: had Charlie gone through this, too? How could he agree to work for this company if he had? I judged him to be a smart kid, so how could he let this pass unnoticed?

I wracked my brain, but I was caught in a conundrum. Before long, my twenty minute break was up. I absently ran through the series of running tests they conducted on me in a long, blank room, my thoughts miles away. Before I left, they took a sample of my blood, a sample of my urine, a sample of my saliva, and they plucked a piece of hair off of my head. By the time they were all finished with me, it was pitch black outside.

Sharon was asleep in the waking room. The 'doctor' woke her up, and we left for the orphanage.

"That took a while," she muttered once we were in the car, more to herself than to me.

"Is that how it was for Charlie?" I asked. She blinked, as if she had just realized she had said something she wasn't supposed to.

"I don't know," she blurted. "I wasn't part of that process." She smiled flakily again, an expression I was really getting sick of.

"What kind of music do you like?" She asked, turning up the radio volume. The wailing vocals of the latest pop star boomed in the car.

"Not this," I mumbled, too low for her to hear. She bopped her head along as if it was her favorite song, but as she navigated the dusty, winding roads, I could see something deeper. I could see the wrinkles in her forehead, the worry in her eyes. She was probably still a pawn in the grand scheme of things, but one thing was obvious: she knew more than she let on. She knew at least something about Itex that she wasn't inclined to share. And she probably even knew that she had sent Charlie off to his death this morning.

**AN: Special thanks to all y'all who are reviewing, even when I'm taking forever to update. Honestly, I get caught up in other things, but seeing that little [Review Alert] in my inbox reminds me of how much potential my story has, and how exciting it is to write. So thank you everyone! (:**


	5. Chapter 5

-Chapter 5-

**AN: Hey guys! Finally had some time to update! Enjoy(: By the way, thank you for all of your reviews, favorites, and alerts; nothing goes unappreciated!**

Despite the fact that I was relatively in shape, since it was still soccer season back in England, I was exceedingly sore the next morning. My lungs hurt—however weird that may be. My abs hurt. My legs hurt. My arms hurt. I had a crick in my neck and a pounding headache.

I wouldn't complain so much if I knew how much worse it would get…but I didn't. Not then.

I rolled out of bed at a snail's pace. There were a few other sleeping forms in the room, yet it felt so empty. I glanced at the bed closest to the door. Charlie's old bed. It looked lonely.

I sighed and stretched out like a big old cat, my joints popping as I did so. It was going to be a long day. I sauntered downstairs for breakfast, where I was met by Sharon, who seemed like she'd been injecting with mass amounts of caffeine.

"Good news!" She chirped. "The company has decided to hire you!"

"Already?" I inquired warily.

"Yep! The doctor's office faxed them your medical report, and they were extremely impressed. They sent an email a few hours ago to tell us that they would be coming to get you in a few days!"

"Yay!" I said with mock enthusiasm. I tried to look convincing. Strangely, I did feel a sense of pleasure at the news. It meant I could get serious now, I could actually follow through with what I had come to do. At the same time, though, I was a little apprehensive. I had already ascertained, by the sketchy men who came for Charlie and the even more sketchy 'doctor's office', that there was something vastly…_not right_ about the company. Who knew what I was getting myself into?

"I wish you could have stayed with us longer, but I'm glad that you will be off to a better life," Sharon said. She seemed convincing enough, but I was sure she had had practice. There was something in her eyes that made her seem old and despondent, all knowing yet helpless.

"I am too," I said earnestly. "And hopefully…" I glanced around her, at the small children sitting at the table. What would happen if they were still here when they grew old enough to work? Would they too be sent off? "…Hopefully everything will go well."

The days passed by slowly and uneventfully, until finally the day of my departure came. I packed my small bag of belongings and headed to the reception area. When I got there, the men who had come for Charlie were already congregated there, including the creepy, shrewd one. His eyes were glued to me from the moment I was visible, in such a way that made me deeply uncomfortable.

I had on the glasses that Smithers had given me, with the x-ray lenses clipped in, but I hadn't turned the nosepiece yet. I was also wearing his sneakers, my 'mother's broach', and the lovely floral shirt. The man appraised me.

"You were not wearing glasses last time I came. I did not see any flaws on the vision portion of the exam. You are supposed to have 20/20 vision." My stomach felt uneasy, but I lied quickly.

"I used to have bad vision, as a boy," I explained. "My parents spent what they had on these glasses when they were alive…I can't bear to part with them." The man narrowed his eyes.

"Sap," he muttered, just loud enough that I could hear. He turned to Sharon.

"Are there any children here that are old enough to work?" He demanded.

"No, there are not."

"How old is your oldest?"

"She's ten."

"She?" His interest seemed to be sparked. I felt an odd sensation of disgust as I looked at his eyes. They were so wild, so ravenous upon hearing that there was a ten year old girl on the premise. I felt sick to my stomach.

"Now look here," Sharon said defiantly. I hadn't seen her so obstinate since I'd been here. "Ten is much too young for children to go off working. She's just a kid. There are labor laws against it and—"

"I understand, I understand," the man said, putting up his hands in a sign of defense. "I was only curious. She may be useful in the future, is all." I didn't like the way his thin lips curled up slightly at the word 'future', as if he would wait for nothing of the sort. In fact, I despised each and every feature about this man.

Sharon seemed satisfied with his testimony, however, and let it drop. After a few more goodbyes, and some signing of paper work, I was on my way out the door with no idea what was to become of me.

The man whom I despised rode shotgun in the large silver SUV that was sitting outside, and several others muscled me into the back seat. Nobody spoke the entire ride, and I had a flashback to when I was being driven to the orphanage. Only then, I knew it was the good guys who surrounded me.

We arrived at an old-looking train station, and I was ushered onto one of the trains. It was a rather long ride, which I endured in solitude once again. I listened to the murmurs of the other passengers, and the occasional voice announcing that we were stopping, but aside from that I was left to nothing but my own ponderings.

I was roused from my thoughts by the conductor announcing, "Next stop, Death Valley." I pretended not to be interested in hopes that the men around me wouldn't get suspicious, but I recognized the name from the file. I had a feeling that we would be getting off here, and my suspicions were confirmed when the guy next to me nudged me and said, "We're getting off at the next stop."

Death Valley, I repeated in my head.

Charming.

The man who I especially didn't like turned around once we had stepped into another large white vehicle. Instinctively, I twisted the broach in a quick and discreet way. I hoped MI6 was listening.

"You are probably not sure what our corporation is, exactly," he said in a low, hissing voice, like stream being let out of a tea kettle. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "We are called Itex, and our goal is to make the world a better place through science. However, it involves a substantial amount of experimentation in order to achieve our objective. You will help us in this respect." I swallowed, staring into his pitiless eyes. "We have great plans for you, Mr. Harrison." He looked at me as though he was expecting some kind of reaction. I put on my best astonished face.

"What do you mean, _experimentation_?" I demanded, only partially acting. "I thought I was going to be working." The man had a glint of satisfaction, as though he enjoyed some sort of struggle.

"But you _will_ be working," he assured me. "With you, we will make great strides in the field of genetics and grafting. You will be our scientific stuntman."

I tried to act the way anybody else in this situation might. "I don't want to be experimented on. I want to go back to the orphanage."

"You signed the papers, Mr. Harrison. You gave us rights over you and your body. This is a new beginning for you. A chance to start over."

"I don't want to start over," I protested. His eyes flashed.

"What life did you have before? You are a fifteen year old orphan. You're life means nothing. You are no one."

_And that is how they justify themselves_, I thought bitterly. I had to wonder if they had said the same thing to Charlie.

The man turned back around. I glanced at the man next to me, and he looked away uncomfortably. Maybe _he_ had a conscious.

A few minutes later, the car stopped.

I stared out the windshield at my new home. All I could see was a large, gray building with few windows and two steel double doors. The men forced me out of the car and kept a hold of me as they led me to the doors. I noticed one of the men was walking off to the side, away from me, with his fists clenched, tremors shooting through his body. It was the same one who was sitting next to me in the car.

I wasn't expecting him to be…what he was. I wasn't expecting any of them. It was my first experience thus far that told me to be prepared for anything.

Because suddenly, the man who was walking off to the side…well, he turned into something that _wasn't_ a man.

It was like a werewolf, sort of; He was covered in thick, scraggly hair, with yellow eyes and big, sharp canines. I stared in horror and disbelief, not able to accept what my eyes were showing me.

"Lobo!" One of the others shouted. "What are you doing?"

The beast-thing-that-used-to-be-a-man spoke in a deep, distorted voice.

"I can't stand it anymore! Haven't we ruined enough lives?" He looked at me in the eye and though his mouth was now a muzzle, I could see that he mouthed the word, "Run."

Before I could even blink, though, every single one of the other 'men' also morphed into wolf-like creatures. One of them threw me over his shoulder, and my face was pressed into his course, sweaty fur. There was shouting, but I couldn't concentrate because the thing that had slung me over his shoulder smelled so _vile_. The thick, animal-like odor assaulted my senses and made it hard to think about anything else.

The next thing I knew, I was inside. The man-beast let me down, but he and another one kept close to me. Some woman in a long white lab coat came walking around the corner, her heels making a loud clicking noise. She stopped when she saw us.

"Why are you morphed?" She asked in a loud, clear voice that demanded authority. She addressed the man-beasts as if they were small children.

"There was a problem," one said in that strange voice that I had come to associate with these things. The woman glanced at me.

"Do we need to monitor this one?" She inquired. I tried to look innocent. There was no way I was being monitored.

"It wasn't the subject, it was one of our own. It is being taken care of."

She nodded once. "There was a problem with Erasers earlier today as well. Get your act together." _Erasers_, I thought to myself, storing the terminology.

The Eraser to my left bowed his head. "Yes ma'am," he mumbled, as if he was personally responsible. She strode past, and the Erasers waited to proceed until the clacking of her heels was off in the distance.

The things I saw in the fifteen minutes or so it took us to walk down the halls are unexplainable. I would never forget them, the images burned into my brain. Though I would come to see worse in the future, this was the first time I had seen these types of things, and first impressions were everything.

The first mistake I made was when I glanced into the room to my left, where the door was opened. It looked like a high-tech weight room: nothing too intimidating. Until you saw what was using the equipment.

On a small treadmill was a tiny creature that couldn't have been more than two years old. On her head was a thin cap of corn-silk blonde hair, and on her back were a pair of bright white wings that were larger than she was. I had to do a double take. They were wings, all right, and they weren't a Halloween costume, either. They were stretched out behind her as she pumped her tiny legs as fast as they would go. As I watched, she fell over twice, and looked as though she was in brutal pain as she got back up again. Off to the side, a group of scientists were taking notes.

The Erasers hurried me along.

I had hardly processed the sight of a winged baby on a treadmill when I caught a glimpse of the creatures in the next room. There were three of them, disturbing and grotesque. They each had slick, dolphin-like skin, but human shaped body's that were covered in patches of fur. Their heads were the furriest, with two little beady eyes sticking out. They were stationed at a table and working hard on a puzzle. A voice sounded in the room, "Three…two…one…stop."

I was again nudged forward by an Eraser.

They kept me going at a steady pace, but I stole glimpses into each room we passed by, and became more and more nauseated with the experiments I saw in them. Some were working on puzzles, some scribbling on paper, some being physically tested, some being operated on. Every single one looked miserable. _Making the world a better place?_

I tried not to think about how this was what would become of me if I didn't succeed on this mission. I tried very hard not to think about it. But I just couldn't help it.

The Erasers stopped abruptly at a closed door.

"Welcome home," one hissed menacingly as it opened the door.

The room was dimly lit, mostly metal, and filled with dog crates. Like, literally; dog crates. They sat lined up on a metallic shelf along each wall. Only, there were no dogs in the room. Most of the crates were full. Do the math.

They opened a crate that was a tiny bit bigger than the others and pointed at it.

"I'm not getting in there," I said indignantly. Some of the other specimen in the cages looked at me with pity.

"Oh yeah?" The Eraser said. He picked up a clunky necklace that read, "S4000" and before I had time to react, he swiftly clipped it around my neck. I gagged a little.

"I'm still not getting in there."

The Eraser gave me a sinister grin, his sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Suddenly, an electric shock was sent up to my head and down to my toes. I fell on the ground, convulsing. I think I peed myself. When the shock stopped, I was unable to move. The Eraser kicked me in the ribs, and I gasped. I stood up slowly.

He pointed again.

Delicately, I began to make my way into the cage. I could only fit in a hunched-over position, but there was at least room to stretch my legs out, although not all the way. The door was slammed in my face, and the Erasers slunk out of the room. I wished there was another scientist person around, because the Erasers tended to behave around them.

The first thing I did once they left was look around. I counted to see that there were 9 other cages, six of them filled. The one directly to my right was not a dog crate, but the same size; it was all clear, hooked up to some sort of machine, and the experiment inside looked as though it was barely hanging on. I thought it was a boy. Its skin was all red, with gruesome boils covering its arms and legs. It was missing its right hand. Its face had dark brown scales all over it, with pointed ears and a small patch of hair. I looked away.

The cage to my left had a young girl in it. She looked as though she was younger than me, but not by much. Her hair was long and tangled, and she looked as though she'd never taken a shower, but she appeared to be basically normal. She stared at me.

"Who are you?" She asked in a monotone voice that was deeper than I thought it would be for someone her age.

"Alex," I replied. "And you?"

"Max." She looked me over for a moment. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing…yet," I replied uncomfortably. "Were you taken from the orphanage?" Her brow furrowed.

"I don't know. I don't know who my parents are. I've only ever been here."

My eyes bulged. I hated this life already; I couldn't imagine it being the only life I had.

"Why?" She asked, seeing my reaction. "Where did you come from?" I swallowed.

"They got me from the orphanage. They said I was coming here to work."

"You mean…you've been…_outside_?"

I blinked.

Suddenly, a shrill beeping noise startled us both. I glanced to my right, where the creature inside of the container was shaking violently.

For a split second, we locked eyes—the creature and I. That's when it dawned on me. I knew those eyes. I knew that expression. I saw the journal in the corner of the container, and the realization became more pronounced.

The beeping settled into one long buzz. The shaking stopped.

Charlie was dead.


	6. Chapter 6

-Chapter 6-

**AN: Happy Thanks Giving to everybody who is celebrating it today! I'm grateful for all of you readers, reviewers, favoriters, alerters...You're all awesome.(: PS sorry for those of you cried last chapter about Charlie…this is going to sound bad but even though he's an important part of my story…he had to die. It just worked out that way. Gee, that sounds harsh. :/Anyway, read on!**

A team of workers wearing hazmat suits came in to "clean up". They carelessly stuffed Charlie in a bag with a label on it. I read with disgust: _Experiment: P3930, From: Room 196, To: Autopsy Room (366) _

They set his few belongings on the shelf next to me. While they had their backs turned, I used the few of my fingers that fit through the bars to grab his journal and slip it into my cage. None of them seemed to notice, and even if they did, I doubted they would care.

"Why do you want that?" Max whispered. I jumped and turned to face her, the journal still in my hands.

"I knew him," I explained softly. Her eyes widened.

"Are you sure? How could you recognize it?"

"I just could. He lived with me at the orphanage for a few days." I decided not to explain how the whole reason for his gruesome death was my fault. I didn't think I could say that without losing my composure.

But inside, I was a wreck nonetheless. It was painfully obvious that if I had spoken up, if I had told him of my suspicions, he may have opted out somehow. He could have found a way, I was sure. Whatever they'd done to him would have been done to me, and he'd still be eating pancakes in the breakfast parlor.

I opened the journal, wondering just what I'd find. It was filled completely, with writing squished into every space it would fit. I flipped to a page towards end of the journal, and I found the poem that he'd read to me. My stomach did a few flip flops as I reread it, and I turned the page quickly.

There were a few poems about being deceived, about being tricked and duped by evil people. Then a lengthy one about physical pain. One expressing his fears about not knowing what was going on.

And then, the poems stopped. The rest of the journal was filled with angsty drabbles and documentations about what was going on.

_Today they began experimentation. They didn't tell me what was happening, but before I passed out on their drugs I saw something that said 'Lizard DNA'. What idiot would try to stick Lizard DNA in a human? I don't know the specifics, but I do know that something feels vastly not right. Something is definitely wrong with me. I threw up several times after the surgery. I feel…weird._

I read through a few more accounts, and the handwriting got progressively worse.

_It's hard for me to write now. My skin is ruined. My eyes are half shut and I can't open them all the way. My forearms have been numb ever since the other day when they injected that chemical into me. The numbness is progressively spreading. I won't stop writing, though. It's the only thing I have to look forward to. I can only hope that someday the world will find out about what these people do. _

I could hardly make out the penmanship a few entries later:

_I'm writing with my left hand. My right is gone. A strange mark appeared on my wrist and they took it off. I'll be dead soon. Don't know why I bother writing. Have to, though. World has to know. I'm not the only one. I'm not the last. New girl showed up today, real young. Erasers brought her in screaming. She bit one in the arm. He tried to push her away but she's frail and her neck snapped and she died. Stuck the body in a bag. That'll be me soon._

I don't cry, as a rule of thumb. It probably says a lot, then, that I had tears in my eyes as I read Charlie's journal. I couldn't help it—this was _real_.

_Sometimes I can't breathe. Think they're getting a machine for me. Put me in a box today. Usually the other experiments talk to each other to pass the time. Max and the bird kids have each other. They're a family. I have no one. Don't have much longer now. Least I don't have anybody to miss. _

There was one final entry:

_Can't breathe on own. Say I be dead tomorrow. If even. Hope journal survicves. Hope someone finds it. Mom, Dad, I'm coming._

—

I sat scrunched up in the corner of my cage for the remainder of the day. Max tried to talk to me a few times but she took a hint and gave up when I didn't answer.

I saw what Charlie meant by 'Max and the bird kids'. Max, the little girl I saw on the treadmill, and four other kids all had wings poking out of their backs. They seemed to be the only successful experiments in the room, each looking more or less like a normal kid from the front.

I had a lot of nightmares that night. I couldn't remember any of them when I woke up, but I still felt like a piece of week-old road-kill. A few minutes after I woke up, one of those people in the lab coats came in.

"Where's S4000?" She asked. At first I thought she was asking us, but an Eraser came in just after her and jabbed his finger at me.

I was yanked out of my cage and dragged down the hallway and up an elevator to a room on the third floor.

They didn't do any operations on me all day, but I felt like a beaten puppy when I returned to my cage later that night. Fitting analogy, huh?

They made me do a bunch of exercises while they monitored my heart rate, probed my brain, did a few scans, made me work through some math problems, and had me work on puzzles with a weird hat on. When I got tired or wouldn't comply, they'd press the button, and the collar would shock me.

The others looked at me with empathy when I was tossed into my cage.

"Just be happy they haven't screwed with your body yet," one of the bird kids muttered. He was two cages away from Max, taller than her but about the same age, with blonde hair and blue eyes that were fixed somewhere in the distance. He seemed incredibly calm for someone at his age; calm and despairing.

"I'm sure it's coming," I replied ominously. The blonde boy smirked without humor.

"That's Iggy," Max explained quietly. "He lost his sight a few weeks ago. We're all still trying to cope with it."

"Lost his sight?" I asked wearily.

"Whitecoat experiment gone wrong. It happens a lot here."

I stared at the poor kid, who would, in all likelihood, never see again. Maybe he wasn't dead or crippled, but I couldn't imagine how much it would suck to be blind—especially when you've seen all your life.

I waited until everybody was asleep before I twisted the broach again.

"I need to get out of here," I whispered into it. "Itex is evil. They need to be shut down. Get somebody in here and get me out. Don't take forever; I'll be dead before you know it and it'll be all your—"

"Who are you talking to?"

The low voice startled me so much I dropped the broach. It landed with a _ding_ on the bottom of my cage. Max was asleep in her cage, but beyond her, in the cage on her other side, one of the other bird kids was staring at me intently.

He was Max's age—which she had told me earlier was ten. He had dark features and, like the others, appeared well beyond his years. It was Fang, as I had been told previously.

"Um, myself," I muttered.

"No you weren't. You were talking into that gold thing. Who were you talking to?"

"Um, I have a mental disorder, and sometimes I talk into inanimate objects and pretend they're real people," I lied quickly. With the moonlight shining on his face, Fang gazed expressionlessly, unimpressed.

"You know you don't fool me." He sat up and clenched the bars of his cage. "Are you a spy?"

I stared into the kids sad, dark eyes, and I couldn't lie. I knew I couldn't, and he did too. After all, who was he going to tell? I just had to keep my voice low.

"Yes," I whispered. "I was sent to investigate this place…nobody thought things would end up like this." He just stared at me for what seemed like forever. He looked contemplative, deep within thought.

"So…you're just going to leave," he said finally.

"I just told the others about this. You heard me. They'll have people here in no time."

He shook his head. "How do you know it will be fast enough? All of us could be dead by the time they got here. You said it yourself."

"What do you want me to do? I'm stuck in a cage too."

"Yeah, well you must have some sorts of gadgets, right?" He pressed his face against the bars. "You asked me what I want you to do and I'll tell you. I want you to get me and my friends out of here."

"I don't know—"

"Should have known. I should have known you would only care about yourself. That's how everybody else is. You're going to get escorted out of here and you're going to file a little report about what you saw here and never think about us again. I should have known."

My gaze wandered to Max, then back to Fang. Passed him at Iggy, all the way down the row of cages until my eyes settled on Angel, the blonde girl I'd seen the first day.

I thought about Charlie again, and my eyes fell upon his journal.

I owed it to them. I owed it to everyone to at least try.

"All right, Fang. All right. Give me a few days to think of a plan, okay?"

I thought I saw a little bit of light in his midnight black eyes as he raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

He seemed to be trying to smile, but it came out as sort of a grimace. "You should talk to Max; she can probably help with the plan. I can try to help too, if you need it," he suggested. I nodded.

"I'll ask you guys if I need help."

"So this is really happening, huh?" He mused, sitting back in his cage and running a hand through his hair. "Ten years and it's finally happening. We're finally going to get out of this hell-hole."

**AN: Hope everybody's Thanksgiving goes well, and for those of you who don't live in America or just don't celebrate it, have a wonderful Thursday!**


	7. Chapter 7

-Chapter 7-

**AN: It didn't take me TOO long to update, right? I mean I still have stories I haven't touched since mid-summer. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter; things are hopefully starting to get interesting;)**

A few hours after Fang and I had our little discussion, the door of the room we were in opened. A tall whitecoat—as the bird kids called the scientists—came in and strode up to my cage.

"Are you ready to be enriched?" He asked me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Are we going to an art museum?"

He gave a Cheshire cat grin. "No, but if everything works out, you will be a walking piece of art."

Call me crazy, but I didn't like the sound of that. I scooted to the back of my cage and clenched the bars when he opened the door.

"I was always more of a history guy," I said quickly, trying to think of a way out of this.

"Someday the history books will know about you," he said in a soft, creepy voice. I hunched back again, causing him to press a button which sent a shock through my body. I fell limp, trying to regain my control, but he was all ready dragging me out, feet first. He stuck me on a gurney and shocked me again when I tried to get off.

I was bound to the gurney by my arms, legs and waist, and they even put a loose strap around my neck.

My mind was racing as I tried to think of an escape. My gadgets were all in my cage, except for my glasses. They never really seemed to mind us keeping things in our cages, but we had to wear paper thin hospital gowns most of the time. That's what I was wearing now—no explosive tourist shirt accessible.

I considered pulling some sort of stunt at the nearest opportunity. But then, I remembered the kids back in the room, waiting for me. Even if I managed to wrangle myself free…well, I'd promised Fang I'd get them out. Plus, Charlie's journal was back in my cage. I couldn't let that fall into the wrong hands, or it'd never see the light of day.

I was wheeled into a room entitled "Operating Room 43" and placed in the center. I felt a sense of panic rising in me as I registered the variety of test tubes, syringes, and scalpels sitting on the counters in the room. I began to hyperventilate, fearing that I would have the same fate as Charlie.

What good would I be to anybody once I was dead?

I cried out, writhing and trying to break the holds, but several whitecoats hovered over me. One held a syringe, which he proceeded to stab into the vein on my forearm. I shouted and grunted and struggled, but medicine works fast. Within moments, the world was twisting and blurring until everything was completely black.

Max's POV

When I woke up, the orphan kid wasn't in his cage. My heart sank.

"What happened to Alex?" I asked Fang, who was wide awake in his crate.

"Took him about an hour ago," he said with no expression. My hands felt clammy as I imagined him being injected with something else's DNA. Who knew if he would come back alive?

"Did they say what they were doing to him?" I wondered. Fang shook his head.

"Max…I need to tell you something. It might not matter anymore but I need to tell you." I raised my eyebrows, surprised at the urgency in his tone. He scooted to the edge of his cage and instructed me to do the same. Once we were as close as possible, he began to explain in a voice so quiet it hardly made a sound.

"Alex is a British spy. He came here to investigate the School but ended up being one of their experiments. He told me before they took him that he'd try to get us out of here. He's got gadgets. I don't know what will happen when he comes back, but if he's okay…He said he would come up with a plan." I sat back, blown away. Part of me was shocked about all he'd said, trying to comprehend the concept of escaping. Another part of me was stunned that Fang had just said so many words in one speech.

"He…what?" I muttered out loud, deep in thought. Fang didn't say anything—he was used to me talking to myself.

I imagined what it would be like to get out this hell-hole that was my life. Sometimes, when I was alone, I would dream about my heroic escape and about my life with the other bird kids. I imagined we would have somewhere to live other than cages, with couches like I saw in the waiting room that one time. Or even just grass. I'd been outside a few times for experiments, but I wasn't free. The grass was dead and brown. I remember looking out at the mountains in the distance and wanting to be a part of them, wanting to have some nice green grass to run around on.

Of course, I always knew, in the back of my mind, that I would be stuck here forever. Or, you know, _thought_ I knew. Now Alex was here, and he was a…spy? I remembered the whitecoats talking about spies once when they wheeled me to a testing room; they talked about war spies and how the government had detected some, or something. They had made it seem like spies were bad.

Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Just when I was really starting to get excited about the prospect of getting out of here, I remembered that Alex was still unaccounted for. Had they found out he was a spy? Were they killing him right now? Were they experimenting on him? What would become of Alex?

What would become of us?

Alex's POV

I blinked wearily once. Twice. Three times. The room started to become more clear as I fought my way to consciousness.

I wasn't in the operating room, but I wasn't in my crate, either. I was still on a gurney, and I was hooked up to some monitoring machines. I heard a low beeping somewhere behind me and realized it was my heart rate.

My heart rate, I thought with a sense of relief. I was still alive.

But as I became coherent, I was aware that something felt off. My stomach felt queasy, and my muscles were sore and fatigued. What had they done to me?

I suddenly got a sharp pain in my heart. And not the emotional kind.

I could hear my heart rate shoot up, and I began breathing heavily. Several whitecoats came rushing in, seeming to be materializing out of thin air.

"Put it under!" Someone shouted. "It shouldn't be conscious! The process isn't complete!"

It took me longer than it should have to realize that they were talking about me. "It" was me.

"Give it this!" Someone else cried, and something stabbed into my arm.

"This too!"

My hospital gown was ripped open, but I didn't bother to feel uncomfortable. I couldn't feel any emotion at all at this point. One of the whitecoats jammed a needle into my heart.

I found it in me to hope, however vaguely, that I wasn't dying. It would suck to die because…

I couldn't remember why I needed to stay alive, but I knew….someone….needed…me?

I no longer knew where I was or what was happening, but it didn't matter, because soon, I was out again.

I woke again with a vague idea of what had happened, but all in all completely confused. I knew I had been operated on. I woke up too early. In the back of my head, I knew I still had to save the bird kids and tell MI6 about this place.

But now I was…where was I?

I was incased in some sort of liquid, that much I could tell. My mouth and nose were hooked up to tubes that I breathed through, and my entire body was in this liquid. At first I decided it was water, but as I became more aware, it became apparent that it was thicker than water, so I was at a loss. I moved my hands, and found that they were attached to some sort of wire. Upon further inspection, I discovered that I had things attached to me everywhere: there were a few on my chest, a bunch on my back, several on my head, about five on each limb.

Slowly, I began to pry my eyes open.

I expected it to sting, but it didn't. My vision was blurred and fuzzy, and I still had no idea where I was. I seemed to be in a tube of some sort. I could make out large, dark images somewhere in front of me, but nothing was in focus.

I looked down, and was angered when I realized I wasn't wearing any clothes. The fact that they didn't even have the humanity to cover me up meant that they didn't view me as an orphan kid—I was a test-subject, and nothing more. I was data. I wasn't a real person, with real feelings, and I wasn't worthy of their respect.

Now that I had established at least _some_ facts, I tried to focus on how I was feeling.

I felt oddly numb where the liquid touched me skin, which explains why it took me a few moments to realize that I was hooked up to chords and wires. There were little painful sensations running up my spine. Inside, I felt stiff and weird and a little nauseous. I remembered distantly what Charlie had written, about something feeling 'off' and 'not right'. With a sense of dread, I realized that this was exactly how I felt, too.

I winced, wondering if this was the first stage of my death. If I would end up just like Charlie.

Although, he didn't mention a liquid-type-tank. Maybe this was keeping me alive.

Suddenly, a bright light above me pierced my silent reverie. I tried to look up, but the chords held me back, kept my head in place.

Cold, metal vices locked onto my arms. Robot hands dragged me up slowly, and the wires fell away at once. Air stung my skin and shocked my senses as I was lifted. I gasped as the tubes were taken out of my nose and mouth. The light was blinding; I shut my eyes quickly. I shivered violently, my body trying desperately to get used to the new setting.

I was placed on some sort of metal table, and I sat there trembling, my arms locked around my legs, feeling cold and uncomfortable and miserable all at once. Nobody offered me a blanket of any sort.

No longer able to control myself, I let out a groan. My voice was surprisingly hoarse and gruff, so much so that I didn't recognize it as my own at first.

Gradually, I began opening my eyes. When they were opened all the way, I took in my surroundings. There were several scientists across the room, sitting at a table and watching me curiously. As I looked at them, they scribbled furiously on notepads.

Somebody coughed, right next to me. I turned my head to see another whitecoat, one who held various pieces of science equipment in his arms.

"Experiment S4000," he announced to the others. "Though experimentation began only four days ago, it has been a complete success thus far." I blinked in surprise. _Four_ _days_? I was out for _four days_? It was a relief, however, to learn that I had been a success (so far). At least I wasn't going to die just yet.

"Give me clothes," I croaked. I was cold and humiliated, and if he thought I was going to play show and tell nicely, he had another think coming.

He glanced at me, as if not really caring what I said. "As you can see," he said to the others, "It's vocal processes work well, which is more than can be said for the last post-developmental experiment. " I gulped, assuming he was talking about Charlie. I guessed he hadn't been able to talk.

"Its vital statistics," he went on, "are all perfect, and though there was some muscle deterioration directly after experimentation, all signs of such activity are gone. It should feel exactly like it did before experimentation."

"Yeah, well I feel like shit," I spat, glaring at him. I didn't have the patience to respect my elders today. "Now get me some clothes." Filial piety can kiss my ass.

There was a gasp among the lesser whitecoats, and the main guy seemed wary, as if he was scared of what I would say next.

"Somebody get it a hospital gown," he muttered. I was handed one almost instantly, which I put on hastily.

"As you can see, it still feels emotion, and remembers the taboos of society." I could tell he was improvising, trying to make it seem like a good thing that I was being a demanding little brat.

"Wait, what do you mean, 'remembers taboos of society?'" one of the lesser whitecoats asked. "Do you mean he has lived outside of this lab?"

"Try fifteen years," I told him. "They abducted me from an orphanage."

"Silence!" Shushed the main whitecoat, but it was too late. The one who had spoken up stared at me in horror. It was like he was just realizing now that I was, well, a person.

"It's not like it had a life, anyway," one of his colleagues scoffed. I remembered her as the one I had seen when I first got here.

"It?" The man cried. Now that I got a good look at him, he didn't look very much like a man at all. He couldn't have been older than twenty five. "Of course _he_ had a life! Until you took it away from him, that is." He was standing up, making his way to the door.

"Mr. Smalls, I know you're new to the program, but you must understand, we do this for science."

"The hell with science, if this is what becomes of it!" Smalls replied angrily. "Operating on innocent children! I didn't want to believe it, but now that there's living proof, right in front of me, I don't want any part of this business! " He threw his papers to the ground with a vengeance and stomped out before anybody could stop him, slamming the door behind him.

The next twenty-or-so-minutes passed in a daze. I was escorted back to my cage, and I remembered alarms sounding, Erasers rushing down the hallways. I couldn't believe they were actually chasing a _whitecoat_ down, but I supposed they would do what they had to in order to keep their secret safe.

Which was a scary thought, with what I was planning, but I couldn't think about that.

What really struck me, was that this whitecoat had a conscience. Maybe he was a little misguided, ignorant, and probably delusional, but something was working right in his brain. It got me thinking that maybe there were other whitecoats who worked behind the scenes, and who had no idea what was going on—who would try to stop it if they did.

It was a stretch, but it gave me hope. Hope for my survival, hope for my escape, hope for humanity in general.

Speaking of humanity, I still had no idea what had been done to me. I had to be different than before…but how? I sat in my cage trying to figure it out. I was so concentrated, trying to pinpoint the alteration, that I didn't notice that the whole group of bird kids was staring at me for several minutes.

"What?" I finally asked. "Do I have three eyes? Because honestly, it wouldn't surprise me."

"You don't look any different," Max said. "We just…we thought you'd died or something."

"Well, I didn't," I muttered. "I'm very much alive. I just don't know what the heck they did to me."

"Usually you know exactly what the School did to you, and that's not a good thing," Iggy put in. "Count your blessings."

I bit my lip, hoping I hadn't offended him. "I would rather know," I mumbled.

Max scrutinized my appearance, squinting as if she were trying to read in the dark.

"I think your hair got lighter," she concluded, nodding to herself. "Yeah, it's definitely lighter. Fang, isn't his hair lighter?"

"Yeah."

I just stared. "I was unconscious for _four days_…so that they could make my hair lighter?"

"That's not the only reason why, I'm sure," Max said quickly. Part of me hoped she was right, because, I mean, four days is a long time to be unconscious, especially if it's just to screw with my pigmentation. And frankly, I liked my hair the way it was before. No need to look like a beach bum. But on the other hand, I was still apprehensive about the whole thing: I would take bleach blonde hair over, say, death.

Then, I realized something. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before, but I guess I had reason, being a little shaken up, sore, and numb. But as the chaos died down, I noticed that I was sitting on something. I shifted, and reached under me to see what it was that I was sitting on.

My hand clasped onto something furry.

"Um, there didn't happen to be a hamster in my cage before I sat down, did there?" I asked awkwardly. The others gave me a weird look that answered my question.

"Well, in that case, I think I have a tail."

**AN: Any guesses on what they did to him? I actually have all my research done, and half of the next chapter done, so if I don't update again this week I'll get her done over my winter break. Happy holidays for all y'all who are celebrating something! (:**


	8. Chapter 8

-Chapter Eight-

**AN: Hey guys, thanks for all the lengthy reviews last chapter(: It's great to know that people are reading and enjoying this fic, because it's probably one of my favorites of the ones I'm writing. This chapter's kind of short, but I just wanted to get something up before the new year. **

I squeezed the tail and I felt it. It was the same feeling as if I were squeezing my arm. I stretched my lower back, and slowly the tail lifted behind me. The tail. _My_ tail.

I turned in my cage so that the others could see this extension of my spine. I poked it through the gap in the back of my hospital gown.

"It's so cute!" The bird kid whose cage was next to Iggy exclaimed—Nudge. She was seven years old, with dark skin and hair, and wide brown eyes that were now fixed on my tail. "Max, how come I don't get a tail?"

"Because birds don't have tails," Max said absently. I twisted around to look at my tail since I hadn't actually seen it yet. It was big and white and fluffy, with little black dots scattered all over it.

The door opened, and the main whitecoat from before sauntered in with an air of unaffected arrogance. His team (minus the one with the conscience) filed in behind him.

"Again, this is S4000," he told them. He opened my cage and dragged me out, but waved his little buzzer remote at me to remind me that I was still under his control.

"Any questions?"

"How much of its DNA is now Uncia uncia, and how much is its original makeup?" One of them asked.

"It is 3% snow leopard," the main guy replied. I tried to process this information, wrap my head around the fact that there was _snow leopard_ DNA inside of me. "You will find it does posses traits that are unique to the animal, and so it will seem almost superhuman.

"For instance, the snow leopard has been known to jump up to a distance of 45 feet, and though we have not preformed any testing yet, we predict that it will inherit this ability. In addition, it should be incredibly fast, great at climbing, able to exist comfortably at high altitudes, and it should inherit somewhat of a predatory instinct."

I was actually a little bit impressed. It would be pretty cool if I could do these things—as long as I didn't die before I got free. That would put a bit of a damper on things.

"Alex," Max whispered later that night. I turned, but I couldn't see her in the dark.

"What?"

"Fang told me about what you said," she told me at a volume I could hardly hear. "About helping us. I want to know if you're still…"

"I still want to," I confirmed. "I'm still going to. I'm still working on a plan. You just have to give me some time; I don't want to get us killed."

"Okay. That's all I was asking."

I settled down, coiling my tail and using it as a sort of pillow. It was growing by the hour, and was already long enough to reach up to my head when my back was fully stretched.

"Hey Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

I frowned into the darkness. "Max, I don't know if this will work. I'll try, but don't thank me yet."

"I'm thanking you for trying," Max murmured. "That's more than anyone else has ever done for us."

It was on the next day that it really dawned on me how much it sucked to be an experiment here, even a successful one.

After what had to be less than four hours of sleep, I was once again dragged out of my cage. They then shoved me into another cage that was even smaller and nailed to a cart, and began wheeling me down the hall. By the time we got to our destination, I was so cramped up that I got out of the cage willingly—though I would regret that later.

First, they wanted to see how my heart would react to various forms of stimulant. They put a heavy vest over my shoulders and strapped it on as tight as they could without snapping a rib. Then, they administered different kinds of shocks and sensations, most of which sent me gasping for air.

Next, they wanted to see how my muscles had developed. Of course, they couldn't just ask me to run or jump or bench-press stuff. No, that would be much too easy. Instead, they had they had this jolly idea of injecting these micro-chip-things under the skin all over my body. When I moved in a certain way, a few would light up. It would also feel as though somebody was stabbing me. I honestly have no idea how this tested my muscle development, but it appeared to suffice for them.

After they took out the chips—which was even more painful than when they put them in—I had little bruises and welts and patches of blood everywhere. I didn't get a chance to recover, though; they were already jumping into the next experiment. Carpe dium, and all that.

They'd decided that it was necessary to study my tail and everything about it. Now, the nerves may not have been working fully when I first developed my tail, but let me assure you, they were fully intact for the experiment. They used a machine to pull it back and stretch it out. I actually cried out, wondering if they had borrowed the idea from medieval torture. Once every vertebrae in my tail was separated they stuck little probes in the gaps between them. It's not a pleasant feeling, let me tell you.

Suffice to say, I was sore, hungry, and exhausted as hell when they finally returned me to my cage. "Can I have some food?" I asked the whitecoat before he walked away. He tossed a bottle that said "nutrition supplement" into my cage and exited.

I stared at the bottle for a few seconds. The liquid inside was thick and tan-ish, and it reminded me of the protein shakes my old coach used to drink. It looked disgusting. But I was hungry, so it would have to do. I unscrewed the top and downed it quickly, almost gagging on the awful taste.

"It's gross, isn't it?" Max commented, watching me from her cage. I nodded. "Sometimes we get bread, and on holidays they sometimes give us the yucky parts of their meat."

I leaned over and made sure no whitecoats were in the room. "Once I get you out of here," I whispered, "we'll have a feast."

Her eyes lit up, and I could almost see her mouth watering. My heart gave a tug, and once again I found myself swearing that, whatever happened, I would do everything to get these kids out of here.

A few days later, I had my plan.

I wish I could say that it was a full-proof plan, that I had worked out every kink and that there was no way it could fail. But as it stands, I don't think a plan like that is possible. I had to do something, though, and I had taken great care in crafting my plan. If everything went right, we'd be out of this damn place in minutes.

If something went wrong, well, I hoped at least the kids would get out. Then I could call MI6 and hopefully they'd hear. Once they got me out I could go looking for the bird kids.

I conveyed my plan to the others late at night, after everyone had left the room. They all leaned in their cages and listened intently, except for the baby, Angel, who slept soundly.

"It'll work," Max said, her breath speeding up in the darkness. "Holy crap, we're getting out of here!"

"Shh," I hushed. "Nothing is for sure. A lot of things could go wrong. I'm working off of assumptions and guesses and there's a lot of room for error. Don't get too excited. Keep your head level and never lose focus, okay? That goes for all of you. If something goes wrong, if everything goes wrong, I want you guys to do everything you can to get out of here. Don't worry about anyone but each other."

"Not even you, Alex?" Nudge asked, her little voice carrying over to my cage.

"No, not even me. I'll take care of myself. If things go right, I'll be with you, but if not, you've got to get out of here. Also, if you guys get separated, we need to have a meeting place. I want you guys to fly until you get to a place called Lake Mead. Read road signs if you have to. Once you get there, find each other. Stick together, it's very important."

"But Alex—"

"Are you listening, Max? If you guys get away from me, _you need to stick together_. Remember that if you forget everything else. It's your only hope at this point. Understand?"

"Yes," Max said softly. I prayed that she would remember. If they somehow got split up, I didn't know what would become of them.

**AN: Happy New Year everybody! 2k12 let's go!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

**AN: Okay guys, here's another short one. I liked that place to stop, though. Enjoy! **

It was time.

Time for what, you ask? Time to put Smithers to the test.

I slipped on the glasses with the x-ray lenses. There was a little tiny knob above the right eye that I could use to determine how far I wanted to see through. My fingers were sweaty, my heart thudding in my ears. I knew what was at stake.

I forced my shaky finger to push the knob forward a few times, until I could see outside of our room. It was dark where I was sitting, so the light that reached my eyes from outside of the room nearly blinded me. Don't ask me how these things work—I couldn't tell you. All I know is that I was suddenly confronted with bright lights and the image of an Eraser sitting outside of our room. He was asleep.

Or at least, he looked it.

I knew that with him here, we would have to be extra quiet, and just hope beyond hope that he wouldn't hear. I watched for a few more second, and was about to continue with the plan when he twitched and straighten up. I couldn't see his face, but he gradually stood up, stretching out his limbs.

He glanced around a few times, and then slowly crept away. His hand was at his crotch and he walked with his legs pressed together.

I snorted. I guess even Erasers have to go sometimes. It was exceedingly convenient that he was going now—although, with him awake, we would have to move extra quick.

"He just went to the bathroom," I whispered to the others. "We have to make this quick."

With an efficiency that surprised even me a little bit, I began ripping the buttons off of the tourist shirt that I'd already put on. I took the one from the pocket, which would make the smallest explosion, and held it in my hand, and then passed the next one to Max.

"Snap it and back away," I directed. My trembling thumbs fumbled with the button until I heard a tiny crack. I placed the button in the keyhole of my cage's lock and scooted to the far end of my cage.

I waited, and beside me, Max waited too. I felt her eyes on me in the darkness. And then, there it was. A tiny burst of light from my cage, and then from Max's. There was a small popping noise, and the sound of metal clambering to the floor. With adrenaline pumping, I used my glasses again to ascertain that the Eraser was still relieving himself.

"Quickly, quickly!" I hissed. We pulled our doors open and slunk out of our cages, our feet barely making a sound against the tile floor. I walked to the opposite wall and felt around on the rungs until I found the keys. It's kind of ironic that the super smart whitecoats were stupid enough to keep the keys in plain sight, but I won't over think it.

I tossed the master key to Max, who was quick with unlocking the rest of the cages, while I gathered my things. I removed my left shoe and hoped to God that it would work. As Max unlocked her friends, I gave the lace a little tug, and felt the claw at the top. "Here goes nothing," I whispered as I lassoed a few times and threw the lace toward the ceiling. I heard a clang, and my heart sped up. I tugged on the lace to find that it was secured in the vent, as hoped for.

The room we were in was thin but tall. The vent, which was perpendicular to the ceiling, was about fifteen feet up—I couldn't just jump up and climb out, or I'd probably have tried that the first day.

I gripped the shoe tightly in my hand, and began to climb up the wall as if it were Mt. Everest. My arms felt strained, and my abs were sore already, but I kept hiking up the wall until I felt the ridges of the vent under my fingers. The next button was already in my hand: I snapped it, tossed it in, and then quickly slid to the floor. Again, there was a small noise. I glanced out of the room and saw that the Eraser still wasn't there.

My rope had come unattached since the grate exploded, so I had to throw it up there again. Luckily, it fastened onto a piece of surviving metal, and I again began to climb quickly up. Time was running out, I knew. The Eraser would undoubtedly check on us once he got back, and that wouldn't be a pretty sight, regardless of whether or not we were still in the room.

I hoisted myself into the vent with a few grunts, cutting my torso on a ragged piece of metal.

"Watch out for rough edges," I said to the others. "Are you ready for the shoe?"

"Yes," Max replied, and I threw my shoe down. Then I took off the other one, fastened the claw, and tossed it down as well.

The youngest boy (The Gasman) and Nudge began to make their way up. I helped to hoist the two into the vent with me one at a time, and then directed them to start off down the tunnel.

Next came Iggy and Fang, who wasted absolutely no time. They climbed up ten times faster than I did, and needed no help getting into the vent.

"Follow Nudge and the Gasman," I whispered, and Iggy took off. Fang remained, though.

"I'm waiting for Max," he said with a certain fierceness that I would not argue with. I shrugged and waited as Max began to painstakingly climb up with Angel on her hip. Once they got close enough, Fang reached down and gathered Angel into his arms. Max was up in seconds, and the four of us started after the others.

"I hear footsteps," Iggy whispered, his voice sounding young and shaken.

"Keep going," I demanded. "Faster. If it's safe, we'll drop into the next room we come across. We can't stay in here long because, with their resources, they might try to poison us somehow."

We continued to shuffle through the vents. The bird kids had a highly developed sense of direction, and helped us to make turns that led towards the building's exterior.

"Don't forget the plan, guys," I whispered, feeling a sense of dread, a metaphorical clock chiming in my brain. "Worst comes to worse, we scatter." I ripped off a bunch of buttons and handed them to each kid, so that there were just two left on the bottom.

"And we meet up at Lake Greed," Nudge put in, sounding proud of herself.

"That's Lake _Mead_," I corrected. "But good job remembering to meet up. You cannot forget that, under any circumstances. Oh, look, there's an empty room below us."

We worked together to pull off the grate, and since the ceiling was low in this room, had no trouble dropping into it.

We were all down in the room, trying to figure out where to go next. Just as I approached the door, the Eraser must have gotten back in our room—

Because an alarm sounded.

All hell broke loose in that moment.

**AN: BY THE WAY. I just started a new Maximum Ride fanfic about Omega. It's just a little baby fanfic and it craves friends, so if you have a few spare minutes, I'd appreciate if you checked it out. (:  
>BY THE WAY WAY. If anybody feels like listening to me drabble, I recently started a blog (.com) so feel free to check that out as well.<br>Okay, done with the shameless self-promotion. I'll try to update a little faster since I left you with a cliffy!**


	10. Chapter 10

-Chapter Ten-

**AN: Hey guys I'm reuploading this chapter, because I just came to the realization that Fanfiction doesn't recognize the diamond symbol, which I have been using as a break between sections in each chapter. Very frustrating, since I've been doing this since the first chapter, and didn't even realize it didn't work. Anyway, I replaced the diamonds with dashes so I hope it works now, and clears up confusion and distinguish between Alex's first person and Max/flock's third person. **

The only way out of the room, other than the door, was through the vent we'd come in, and that was a death sentence. I looked under the door and saw no feet, but you never know. It was our only option, though, so we just had to wing it. They probably had cameras watching us right now, as a matter of fact. We had to work fast and hope to God that things worked out.

"You know the plan," I hissed to the others. "Stay with your buddy. Stay with each other. Run at every opportunity. Everyone clear?"

"Yes," they all replied at various times.

"Okay. Let's go."

Feeling as if there were a lead weight sitting in my stomach, I lurched the door open. The alarm was still blaring, red lights flashing in the hall way. It looked like a scene from an action movie, or maybe a video game.

A video game, that's all this was. Take out all the bad guys, make it to the finish. Except there would be no extra lives, no health packs, no "Game Over, Press A To Restart". One strike and you're out.

It was perhaps my toughest mission yet, because I wasn't just looking after me. I had six small children who would pay if I made a mistake. It's a little additional pressure, if you know what I mean.

"Quick, quick!" I whispered, hurrying the kids through the threshold. "Remember the plan!"

Five avian-human bird children took off to the left. One stayed and gave me a critical look.

"Make it out," Max commanded.

"I'll try," I promised, wishing she'd run off with the others. I heard footsteps coming our way, fast.

"_Do_," she snarled. She heard the footsteps too, and her eyes softened. "But if you don't, we'll be safe."

Before I could say anything else, she turned and bolted after her friends. Without pausing to think, I spun around and took off in the opposite direction.

—

Maximum Ride had never been so terrified in her life.

Everything was chaos—the alarms, the thudding of the footsteps, the fear that everyone in her flock was so obviously feeling. Angel, who was only a baby, burst out into tears from her spot in Fang's arms. Fang was ten years old and impassive on a good day, so his nerves were even _more_ fried at this outburst. Nudge and Gazzy were fighting tears as well, but bit their lips with a grim determination to stick it out. Iggy's face was twisted into a tortured expression as he sprinted forward with his hand glued to Max's hospital gown. His eyes were opened wide, as if maybe by doing this he would miraculously regain his sight.

Suddenly, just as they rounded the corner, they were confronted with a wall of Erasers: four of them. Max whispered rapidly into Iggy's ear, and his blind eyes went hard. He was determined.

"Gazzy, grab Angel! Get behind us!" Four year old Gazzy, still very new to the world, took his little sister from Fang and hobbled behind the rest of them. _This is it_, Max thought. _We need to get past these guys. _

The Eraser in the front took out his little radio, probably to call for reinforcements, but Max lunged forward and smacked it out of his hands. Though not trained in any way shape or form, they at least had their reflexes going for them.

The Eraser tried to return the favor to Max, but she quickly dodged his blow. Allowing her instincts to take over, she punched him as hard as she could, right where it counts. She glanced over at the others for a brief second before smashing her left foot into the attackers face.

Beside her, Iggy had also learned to let himself move naturally. He realized that he could sense when a blow was coming. He ducked and weaved, and managed to get a few solid punches in, although they were poorly positioned and didn't do much damaged.

Fang too was holding his own. He was dangerous, and it was clear to Max, with just the small glance she snuck at him, that he would be quite the fighter when they grew up. His eyes missed nothing as the big goon went after him, his mature brain calculating and recalculated as if he'd done it all his life. At one point, he slid under the Erasers legs and came up behind him in a movement so fluid that the Eraser didn't even realize what had happened until his head was being smashed in.

Fangs Eraser crumpled to unconsciousness. He was mystified, but hardly had time to think because he was already helping Nudge, who was bearing the worst of it. Her tiny face was bruised and bloody.

Max's Eraser was out, and she came to Iggy's aid. Though Iggy was certainly doing what he could, being small and blind was bound to catch up with him at some point. His nose was obviously broken, blood streaming out of the swollen blue thing rapidly.

Max and Fang eventually finished them off. With four Erasers down, the flock continued their sprint down the hallways.

Max felt her eye swelling—the jerk had managed to get a lucky punch—and Fang was missing a tooth. Gazzy was crying at this point, overwhelmed with the thought of being helpless as his family got the daylights beat out of them. Fang took Angel back mid-run and they rounded another corner. Nobody was seen down this stretch, and they made the most of it, speeding up even more.

Another corner. Another. It was eerie how deserted it seemed, and Max began to feel suspicious. _Where was Alex?_

And then, out of nowhere, another group of Erasers appeared. Only now there were six, by Max's count.

They stopped, and the Erasers stopped too, eyeing them up. They grinned. Easy prey. Max was trembling, staring at the Erasers.

_Options_, she thought to herself. _What are our options?_

They could try to run through, sliding under the Erasers and maneuvering their way out, but it was too risky with the little ones. Suppose they seized Angel or the Gasman? Then what?

They could throw a few bombs, but then they wouldn't have them later. Plus, it would draw attention.

Or…they could fight. They weren't in great shape after four Erasers…how would they fare after six? What would happen to Angel and Gazzy?

"This is it," Max whispered to Fang, feeling very young and vulnerable and bitterly let down. "It was worth a shot."

"We're not going down without a fight," Fang replied. "We still have a chance."

Max stared into the cold eyes of their attackers, and had the heart not to tell Fang how naïve he sounded.

—

I wasn't stronger than them, but I was sure as hell smarter. I didn't think I could run away from them, and I definitely couldn't fight them. All I could do was think fast and hope I was keeping them distracted and away from the kids.

I spotted the first group of Erasers a few seconds after I departed from the kids. I tossed the claw of my ninja shoes up to the ceiling, where it attached to the metal edge of a light. I then gripped my shoe tightly and swung over their heads, thrashing and kicking as I went so as not to allow them to grab me. I think I even injured a few.

I left the shoe, knowing there would be no time to free the little claw, and it swung back and clonked one of them in the face. I had the edge on them, and ran as fast as I could away.

It was then that I realized that the tail wasn't the only alteration I had.

My legs started jerking my body forward at a pace I'd never achieved before. I could hardly see as the world blurred by. I gained significant distance on the Erasers, who were known to be wicked fast. Faster than any man.

And I was faster than them.

I ran on the balls of my feet, and it came as second nature. I took long leaps forward and it didn't break my step, as my tail seemed to keep me balanced. And then, I came to the second group of Erasers. I took one quick glance up. We were in an area where the ceiling was at least twenty feet up.

_Here goes nothing_, I thought as I sprung forward. For a moment, the entire world froze. I was suspended in the air, my hair grazing the ceiling panels. Below me, the Erasers watched in awe. I felt my shirt flowing behind me, my legs flailing, my tail keeping me sturdy.

And then it was like somebody pressed 'play'. I began descending rapidly, and moving more and more forward as I did so. I was a good thirty feet ahead of the Erasers by the time I hit the floor, and I was already running again at that point.

My heart was beating so hard it was all I could hear. It seemed to be everywhere, everything.

_I'm not human anymore_, I thought, mystified.

"Catch me if you can!" I wailed as I ran forward, letting out a maniacal laugh that I could no longer hold in.

I came upon a group of Erasers, but their back was turned to me. Beyond them, I saw the kids, bruised and beat up, quivering at the sight of them. Max saw me, but I put a finger to my lips and she looked away, and then whispered something to Fang.

"Hey," I said loudly, taking the six Erasers by surprise. They wheeled around to see me, and I grinned evilly.

Max was smart. As soon as the Erasers turned around, she and the others took off. I was relieved beyond belief that she remembered the plan, which was vague and ever-changing, built on a few basic principles.

They left so silently that the Erasers didn't notice. They came at me, and I jumped. The ceiling was much shorter here—probably about ten feet high. I clung to it as soon as I got high enough. Somehow, even though the cracks between the tiles were tiny, I managed to stay on the ceiling. The Erasers jumped for me, but couldn't quite reach me. I quickly scuttled in the direction that Max went, and when I had confused them enough, sprung forward and took off.

I reached the kids in no time. "This way," I said, herding them into a room. They looked dubious, but followed anyway. I'd seen this room a few times in my stay here, and I knew that there was a door on the opposite side of it—though I had no clue where it led.

The room, luckily, was empty, and we lost no time hurrying across it and yanking the door open.

We were faced with a long corridor. And at the end, two steel doors.

"I'm betting on those being locked," I said as I ripped the last button off my shirt, cracked it, and whipped it at the door.

A few seconds later, it exploded.

Moonlight streamed into the building.

"Go!" I commanded, and the others ran forward again. They seemed dazed, and I realized that, aside from experimentation, they'd never been outside before. I wished I could slow this down for them, let them take it all in, but there was simply no time.

We broke out into the cool night air, and I took a deep breath. Somewhere behind us, I knew, Erasers were hot on our tail.

"Do you know how to fly?" I asked while we ran forward.

"No," Max heaved. "Not really."

"Well, today you're getting a crash course. Fang, give me Angel."

The baby was placed into my arms, and I gripped her tightly. We were in a parking lot scattered with cars of various makes and models.

"Lake Mead," I reminded them, pointing in the general direction. "I'll meet you there. Try your hardest to fly, but if you can't, just run like the wind."

"How hard can it be?" Iggy wondered as he stumbled forward.

—

_How hard can it be?_ Max asked herself. _It's flying. We're made for this._

"Go with the flow," she told the others. "Do what feels natural. This is what we were made to do."

She jumped forward and onto the car, and then leaped off and unfurled her wings.

There was a second of panic in which she felt sure that she would crash to the ground. But then, miraculously, her nine-foot wings began to carry her up and forward. She began laughing as she rose into the sky, feeling weightless and limitless and unstoppable. She glanced behind her, and to her great relief, the others were rising as well. Gazzy was right behind her, then Nudge, then Iggy and Fang. They all kept rising—albeit clumsily—but rising nonetheless.

And then, to Max's horror, shots began ringing out.

"To the forest!" She cried, using her new found strength to turn left. The others followed, making wide turns and heading into the forest. It was hard to fly in the forest, though. There were trees everywhere that both protected them and hurt them. Their wings got snagged several times, twigs drawing blood in a number of places. It was easiest for Gazzy and Nudge, who were still so tiny, but the others had seven, eight, and nine-foot wings that didn't fit too well between the trees.

Shots were still fired, but they were nowhere near the flock, slamming into trees many yards away.

"Okay, let's go up," Max said as she realized that the forest was doing more damage than good. "Stay right above the treetops."

They awkwardly began to maneuver their way up, which was a short distance but a tough climb. At one point, Fang thought he was losing altitude and panicked, pumping his wings hard and fast. This scared Iggy, who fell about five feet before regaining control, and pushed Nudge into a pine tree.

"Jeez, guys!" Max hissed. "Calm down!"

Eventually they made it out, and soared as fast as they could over the tree tops. Soon, it became apparent that the Erasers had lost them. They dropped a little, keeping an eye and ear out, but saw nothing. The forest fell away, and they were faced with a long, empty stretch of road.

They were all on the point of exhaustion, never having so much adrenaline coursing through their tiny bodies. Max was about to call it quits for the night when Nudge pointed to a sign.

In the School, Max, Fang, Iggy and Nudge had learned how to read. It was an experiment, to test their comprehensive abilities. Now, Max was immensely grateful that they'd learned, because the sign facing them said 'Lake Mead, 2 miles.'

"Two miles," she mused. "We can do two miles. Come on guys, Alex is waiting!"


	11. Chapter 11

-Chapter Eleven-

**AN: Happy President's Day Americans! Happy Monday everybody else!**

I was running through the forest in a hospital gown and a colorful tee-shirt, with a winged mutant infant in my arms and one sneaker on my foot.

It was a rather odd situation, which says a lot coming from me.

My reflexes surprised even me as I ducked and dove in between trees, managing to protect both Angel and myself. She'd actually fallen asleep to the rhythm of my feet padding softly against the pine needles underneath us. I'd gone off in a different direction from the others, trusting their instincts and abilities. Plus, we had different methods of transportation. I could only hope that they got out okay—I would find out later tonight.

Just for shits and giggles, I ran at a tree and tilted my body. It was exhilarating: I began running up the tree, my body perpendicular to the ground. I stuck my foot into the crook created by a branch and the trunk and sprung off, clinging to Angel and doing a back flip.

Her eyes were wide open when we landed gracefully on the ground, but she didn't shed a tear. Instead, she just stared up at me like I was the second coming. I paused, glancing around the quiet woods. All I could hear were soft animal noises—an owl hooting, crickets, a couple frogs croaking, etc.

I pulled out the broach and twisted it. I still didn't know what happened with the communication last time, but I was hoping that it would work now. Depending on it.

"I need help," I whispered into the broach. "This is important. Don't leave me hanging on this one. I just escaped the lab with six mutant children. They've operated on all of us. We're rendezvousing at Lake Mead, and I will check in again next time we move, which will be soon. Please come; I don't know how long I can take care of these kids with Itex chasing us. They have scary tactics for chasing people, like these human-wolf crossbreeds with guns. Seven lives are at stake, excluding however many are still at the lab. There's some scary stuff going on here, and we have proof. We _are_ proof. Itex is experimenting with genetics, and they're experimenting on children. Come _now_."

Just as I finished my little speech, Angel had started to cry again. She was probably hungry—so was I. I didn't know the first thing about babies, especially babies that had wings. I held her tightly and continued on through the woods.

—

By some miracle of chance, we arrived at the general area of Lake Mead at the same time Max and the others landed. The kids were hyped up on adrenaline, this having been their first flight.

"You're going to love it!" Gazzy gushed to his little sister, who most likely didn't understand a word. We were sitting inside a small cave by the water, lit slightly by the moonlight. For fear of easy detection, we opted out of a fire tonight. It was cool inside of the damp cave, but we were all huddled together and our body warmth was keeping us warm. The kids wrapped their wings around themselves, and I had my tail. We all had each other.

"It's better than dessert," Iggy agreed.

"I don't know," Nudge said. "Dessert's pretty awesome. I've only had it once in my life, when they gave us that chocolate cake? I think they wanted to see how we would digest chocolate but I don't really care, that was one experiment I didn't hate. But yeah, flying is great too. We can do it all the time, right? You won't tie up our wings when we go outside, right Alex?"

"Right," I assured her. "We're going to get really far away from here, and I'm going to try to get some help from my friends, and then you guys can fly as much as you want."

"I want to fly all the time," the Gasman cried. "I want to be a permanent bird. And I want to, like, poop on the whitecoat people's heads. Wouldn't that be so much fun?" He fell over with laughter, and Iggy quickly joined in.

"This one's for my eyesight!" He shouted, making fart-noises with his mouth. I rolled my eyes, but I loved that the kids were, well, _kids_. It was comforting to discover that growing up in a lab didn't make them a bunch of emotionless drones. They were still just little kids that were capable of laughing and crying and finding humor in fart-jokes.

"Hey Alex?" Max whispered. I turned, and could just barely make her out in the moonlight.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we should take turns watching out for the Erasers while everybody sleeps? They're probably still looking for us."

"That's a good idea," I told her. "Go to sleep; I'll take first watch."

—

I woke up pleasantly, which was more than I'd hoped for. I think I got a good four hours of sleep before my eyes drifted open. Sun was streaming across the lake and Iggy, Gazzy and Nudge were soaring through the air not too far from our inlet. They laughed as they skimmed the top of the water, brushing their wings against it and occasionally submerging.

Next to me, Angel sat complacently, twiddling her thumbs, and Max was asleep. Fang sat at the mouth of the cave, watching the other three. Max had taken watch after me, and Fang after her. He was still technically on watch.

I got up, scooped up Angel, and went to sit next to Fang.

"How are you holding up?" I asked him.

"Okay," he replied. He was hardly ten-years-old, and though Max looked about fifteen, Fang surely looked his age. His shoulders were scrawny, his face small and sunken, and his hair was long and unkempt. His eyes, though, told a different story. They'd seen a lot, enough to make him seem ancient.

"You can take a rest if you need to," I offered, but he shook his head.

"I don't need a lot of sleep. I'm not even tired."

I nodded, knowing that Fang was too stubborn to argue with.

"What's the plan?" He asked.

"We need to eat," I answered. "So I was thinking you guys could wait here, and I'll try to scavenge up some food. If I can find a couple spare coins lying around I'll call my friends at MI6. Then I'll come back and we can eat, and then take it from there."

"You can go now. I'll have them come in, and we can hide out until you get back. Max will be up any minute now."

"Do you want me to take Angel?"

"No, I think we can take care of her for a little while."

I nodded again, trusting Fang to look after the others. He was small and young, yes, but I knew he was also smart and fierce. He would be able to keep his friends safe. If we didn't get some food in us soon, though, we'd all be goners.

I stood up, getting a head rush but pushing through it and sprinting around the lake. I ran for several miles, my legs shaky from hunger and sore from the night before. I kept going, though, out of sheer will-power.

Finally, I came to a small town. I could see a gas station, but knew that if I walked in as is it would definitely stir up some suspicion. I was going to need clothes. I hung back around the edges of the forest and circled the town. Then, I spotted it: a clothing drive. There were several big trucks parked outside of a grocery store, and a bunch of cars were unloading garbage bags full of clothes. One car in particular, a large SUV, was parked with its open trunk facing me. The person whom I presumed to be the driver was a young woman who was busy flirting with one of the helpers, and a couple of white garbage bags sat readily in her trunk, which was only a couple of yards from me.

Like a bolt of lightning, I zipped over to the truck, grabbed the bag, and zipped back to the safety of the forest. Nobody noticed a thing. I slunk further back into the forest and wrangled the bag open. Luckily, there were several items inside that were my size: a couple t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and even some sandals. I pulled on one of the t-shirts, the jeans, and the sandals before tying the bag up again. My tail fit nicely into the loose pant-leg of my jeans, and luckily the clothes were very average looking. I strolled back out into the parking lot inconspicuously. As I passed the truck, I plopped the bag back into the trunk and kept walking.

A glance behind me showed that nobody was paying any attention to me whatsoever.

I got to the gas station with my stomach feeling as though it weighed a ton. This is where the real work began. I wondered if maybe there was a burnt pizza in the dumpster. I put my hands into my pockets as I considered my options…

And then I realized that there was something inside. I clasped the item and pulled it out, and just like that, I was staring at a fifty-dollar bill.

Somebody was looking out for me. I had a flash of Charlie's face and wondered if I was having a supernatural experience, but quickly shook my head and blamed it on luck.

I walked into the gas station with confidence and bought a couple bags of trail-mix, beef-jerky, chips, protein bars—anything that I could find and that wouldn't cost me the whole fifty dollars. I even got a couple jars of that gross mashed up baby food for Angel—just in case she didn't eat normal food yet. My bill came to $30.25, and as the coins fell into my hands, I spotted a pay-phone.

I put the two quarters in and prepared to dial the number for MI6. I knew it by heart, and I knew that it would be vital to establish a two-way connection with them. But then, a face popped into my mind. It was a face I would never forget, and the face was saying something. It was telling me a number—a number, too, that I would never forget. Before I had a chance to change my mind, my fingers were pounding on the digits.

A familiar voice answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Sabina," I breathed into the receiver. "It's Alex. Don't freak out. I need your help."


	12. Chapter 12

-Chapter Twelve-

**AN: Okay, a little later than usual for this chapter. In my defense, our internet has been up and down for the last couple weeks, and since I don't know anything about California, I needed to do some research via the internet. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Mapquest, Google, and the Verizon guy that fixed our internet!**

Sabina Pleasure put down the phone and stared at herself in the mirror. She was still dressed in her pajamas, the ones with the little pink frogs. Her hair was still piled haphazardly on her head. Her face was still makeup-less and tired, but her eyes were very alert, very alive.

"This is what I get," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "This is what I get for being sociable. For getting weak in the knees whenever I meet a guy with big muscles and brooding eyes. I'm not going to go help him; he's on his own."

But she had promised him she'd figure something out. She'd promised, and she knew that it wasn't even just his life at stake. She wished she could call the police, but Alex had begged her not to. She wished she could tell her parents, but again, Alex made her swear she wouldn't.

She wanted to just go back to sleep, or go back in time and not answer the phone. How was she supposed to help him? Hide six kids in her basement?

A film strip in the corner of her mirror caught her eye. It was her and Alex at the movies, smiling and laughing and goofing off. She realized with a pang of sadness how much she missed that smile, how much she missed talking to him. She missed fretting over what to say and how to look, and then have none of it matter the moment she saw him.

"For the love of God!" She groaned, ripping the strip off of her mirror, folding it up, and running to her closet.

She grabbed a bunch of clothes; mostly t-shirts, some things that didn't fit her anymore. She stole some things from her dad's closet as well. She ran out to her SUV and plopped her armful into the back seat, and then ran back inside. This time she filled up several bags with food—granola bars and bread and nonperishables. Back to the car again. Then she ran down to the basement and filled her arms with blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags, tripping a few times on her way out. Finally, she grabbed a couple of tents from the back shed and added them to her collection.

Before she left, she grabbed her phone and laptop and their chargers, though she didn't know when she would be around an outlet. Then, because her parents were away for the weekend, she wrote them a vague note:

_Something has come up. I took my car and I'll be gone for a couple of weeks. Please don't freak out. I'll try to call when I can. —Sabina_

Her shaking legs carried her out to the car, and she got in and started the engine. It rumbled to life underneath her as she pulled the film strip out of her pocket and set it in the cup holder.

"I'm on my way, Alex," she whispered as she stepped on the pedal and the car jerked forward.

—

Before returning to the group, I ran back into the convenience shop and bought a map of the west coast of America. Sabina may know California like the back of her hand, but I wasn't so fortunate.

Our rendezvous point was a place called Bakersfield, California, which Sabina told me would be about half way between her (as she currently resided in San Francisco) and us. I told her we might be a little later than her, but I didn't explain why. Maybe it was selfish, but I decided not to tell her quite yet that we had rather special means of transportation that, factoring in rest stops along the way, would probably not be as fast as a car. I just didn't feel like opening up that can of worms.

"What _did_ you say?" Max demanded when I informed her of our situation. She was fuming at the thought of a third party being introduced, but I swore up and down that we could trust Sabina. She wasn't having it.

"I told her I was in trouble," I explained. "That I needed her help and her resources, and that I was sitting in Nevada with six kids and on the run from some pretty scary stuff, including wolf-human cross-breads with a thirst for our blood."

"And she was just totally cool with it?" Iggy asked dubiously. I shrugged.

"Yeah. Sure. Look, she agreed to meet us and bring what she could. She said she'd provide some shelter and she'd bring money. She's one of my very good friends and she's putting her life on the line to help us, so I'd appreciate it if you swallow your distrust and be on your best behavior. Got it?"

Max made a face but nodded, seeming to realize that this was the only choice. Her usual spark had returned as her stomach filled, and she gave me this steely glance that you wouldn't expect a ten-year-old to have mastered. But then, she's not just any old ten-year-old.

"You should have told her," she said accusingly.

"Yeah, and then she wouldn't have come and we'd be Eraser meat by nightfall. Now this is about a four and a half hour trip by car, so let's get moving. We're losing time rapidly."

I scooped up Angel and she began to cry, her little face getting all red scrunched up. "Shh," I hushed, rocking her gently until she subsided.

"She doesn't know what she's getting into," said Max, still hung up on the Sabina-issue.

"Yeah, well neither did I," I shot back. She looked a little hurt, but quickly strode off, summoning her flock to prepare for takeoff.

I bounced down the mountain so that I could wait at the bottom in case any of them fell, and watched their takeoff from below. First Fang, then Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Max. They were still wobbly, not really in a distinct formation, but they were off. I watched them a second longer before taking off in the same direction, clenching Angel to my chest and guarding her with my life as we ran into whatever lied ahead.

—

The kids touched down after about twenty minutes of high-speed trekking.

"There are figures," Max said. "They're very far, but we need to take a little bit of a detour. I would head that way." She pointed to our left. "Then we can sort of loop back up, or see where we are next time a village crops up and figure out where to go from there."

I nodded. "Figures are bad," I agreed. Even if they were just a couple of hikers, they could be hikers with cameras and access to the internet. "I'll stay under you guys. Come down again in another twenty to thirty minutes to check in again."

They nodded and took running starts to get up in the air again. It was tougher for them, not having anything to jump off of, but Fang and Max helped to hoist the others into the air, and they were able to get up okay on their own.

Another thirty or so minutes of hot, dry desert passed. Ordinarily, I would be left to the vultures at this point, but apparently the scientists had been kind enough to graft me with super-endurance as well. How thoughtful.

Max and the others were still overhead, and she herself swooped down to make sure I didn't want stop, but the whole group didn't come down because it didn't seem necessary.

Time seemed to stretch out forever in wasteland we ran through. Angel cried for a little bit, but then seemed to give up as she snuggled into my chest and fell asleep.

Running felt good. Sometimes running was exhausting, sometimes a hassle, sometimes painful. Sometimes I was thirsty, sometimes I was tired, sometimes I was scared out of my wits and running for my life. But today I felt good. My muscles expanded and contracted, expanded and contracted as my feet padded softly against the sandy floor. The air was warm and moist but it didn't seem to bother me: it seemed like I was getting plenty of oxygen with every breath. Carrying Angel, with her big fluffy wings and bouncy girls, was like carrying a small dog, but the light weight felt like nothing. I hardly perspired and my throat felt perfectly moist despite the hot and thick air around me.

I began to drift off, to tune out of the world and sort of recede into myself. Then I looked up after quite some time…and saw nothing but a vast blue, cloudless sky.

I skidded to a halt, and Angel started up again. With frantic eyes, I scanned the sky over my head. Where were they?

"Max!" I shouted in a loud, clear voice. "Fang!"

"Shhh!" I whirled around, and the whole group was standing behind me. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't look so relieved," Max whispered. "We saw Erasers. I think they saw us too. They're not close but they're probably armed, and we can't move as fast as you can without flying."

The sun beat down on us from overhead, and suddenly it felt like a sauna. Sweat began to dribble down my face as I looked around hopelessly at the flat land around us. The kids were beginning to look tired, especially little Gazzy, whose face was redder than a stop-sign.

"Where were the Erasers?" I asked. Max pointed right. "Okay, let's head left. Gazzy, you're riding on my back."

"What?" Cried the Gasman, his big blue eyes looking all offended. "I'm not a baby!"

"Get on my back," I said through clenched teeth. "Just for a little bit." He sighed but reluctantly climbed onto my back. "Tuck in your wings," I instructed, a little surprised at how light he was.

So with Gazzy on my back and Angel in my arms, I turned left and began running behind Max, Fang and Nudge. Even with the two kids weighing me down, I would have been way ahead of them if I didn't make a conscious effort to stay in back.

And then, suddenly, there was hope. Far in the distance—and I hoped that it wasn't a mirage—a small village seemed to be cropping up.

We stumbled forward, and after a few minutes, we could make out several shops and houses.

I glanced at the gang. I was dressed semi-normally, but the rest were still dressed in their hospital gowns, with their wings poking out clear as day.

I looked around, and then spotted a tree that was quite close to us.

"Okay guys," I began, "I want you all to go up in that tree and hide. It's big and bushy enough to conceal you. Don't get down for any reason. I'm going to go figure out where the heck we are, and then call Sabina."

"Alex?" Nudge asked with her eyes all big. I raised my eyebrows. "We're really super hungry."

"Are you kidding? We _just_ ate."

"We need to eat a lot," Max explained. I groaned.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. For now, get in the tree." I waited until they were all up to go into town.

It didn't take me long to find a gas station. There was a young woman working at the counter, who smiled when she saw me and said hi. I returned the gesture and went straight to the phone, my fingers flying across the keys.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sabina, it's Alex. Where are you?"

"I'm just passed some place called Modesto. I'd say I'm about a third of the way to Bakersfield. How about you?"

"One second." I put my hand over the receiver and asked the lady at the counter where we were.

"Barstow," she said, and I repeated the name to Sabina.

"Wow, you're moving quickly," she surprised me by saying. "You're almost half way there. Call me when you get to Bakersfield; we might have to change the rendezvous point since you're making such quick progress. How fast are you going?"

"Um, pretty fast."

"Don't get a ticket, Alex. That's the last thing we need."

"Don't worry, we're not driving."

"What?"

I sighed into the receiver, feeling guilty for not explaining the whole thing to Sabina. I couldn't do it now, though; not in public. The girl at the counter was hanging on my every word. She'd have me locked up in insane asylum in no time.

"I'll explain everything when I see you, okay?"

"All right, I guess. No big surprises though," she demanded. I laughed without humor.

"Of course not. Bye Sabina."

I hung up and left the shop, feeling worse and worse about myself with every step. I decided I would check in with the kids before getting them food, just in case. I reached the tree where the kids were waiting, just in time to see them scurrying out of it.

"Alex!" Cried Max, looking a little bit relieved. "We have to leave, _now_!"

I could see them from here; dark shapes trekking through the desert, headed for seven runaway mutants in Barstow, CA.

**AN: So, long wait for sort of a filler chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. I'll try to get the next one up sooner!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

**AN: Believe it or not, but I'm actually updating! Mind boggling, I know. I'm sorry about taking forever, but exams are finally over and I'm home from NYC, so I hope that I'll have some more writing time. **

**Be warned: This chapter is kind of short and not amazingly written, but filler chapters are always the hardest. **

There comes a time in every mutant's life in which they must say, "Screw it. I'm here and I'm weird and everybody else is just going to have to deal with it."

This was that time for us.

I will not pretend that we didn't get our share of surprised, confused, hateful, and baffled faces as we darted through the quiet town of Barstow. I was hoping that the kids wouldn't hear all the profanity that was thrown our way, but I'm not going to kid myself.

We sprinted as fast as we could, me carrying Gazzy and Angel again. Once we were on an empty street, we ducked into an abandoned building and booked it to the top. The door to the roof was locked, but it was old and rusty and not too difficult to kick open.

We stayed low and peered out at the desert behind us. The Erasers still hadn't reached the town yet; we could see them trekking through the desert.

"Okay guys," I said in my best leader voice. "We're going to jump off this building and you're going to stay low. Below the rooftops. When we get to the edge of the city, you're still going to stay low. There should be more cities now that we're out of the vast part of the desert. Any objections?"

The Gasman raised his hand like a little school boy, and I nodded at him.

"What are you going to do, Alex?" He asked with his big blue eyes looking all worried.

"I'm going to go with you, only I'm going to be running on the ground instead of flying."

"But aren't there people down there?"

I shrugged. "They were bound to find out about us at some point. We'll just have to get some sort of disguises or something in the future. Now, let's go before they see us. Fang, why don't you go first."

So Fang went, without a word as usual, with Iggy by his side; then went Nudge, then Gazzy. Max cast a wistful glance in my direction before bringing up the rear. I glanced down at Angel, who had her big bright eyes trained curiously on my face. I clutched her to me chest—tight enough that she wouldn't slip out and loose enough that I wouldn't, say, crush her ribcage—and sprung from the roof.

It seemed that the kids passed by unnoticed, but as my feet left the building, I heard the screaming. It seemed extra-loud to me, probably magnified by my fear of the Erasers.

"_Is that a baby?"_ Somebody cried. I was surprised that I could make out the words, especially with the wind rushing through my ears.

After a few seconds of glorious free falling, my feet crashed against the pavement. I was already running full speed, tuning out the screams and cries of the people around me. I weaved my way around the various bystanders, who mainly just gaped at me in shock.

Soon, I found myself in the desert again, running alongside a single two-lane road. I had swiftly caught up to Max and the gang, and they were now flying directly over me. I adjusted my pace to match theirs.

I don't think I'll ever quite get over the feeling of running like this. It was just so exhilarating, feeling my ninja shoes slapping lightly against the pavement and the wind blowing my hair back off my face. It was amazing how natural it felt.

"There's another town up ahead."

I inhaled sharply in surprise as Fang suddenly appeared next to me, flying evenly at my side.

"When did you get there?" I demanded, continuing to stride forward.

"Been here. Anyway, we want to stop. We're real hungry."

"I don't know if we _can_ stop. We don't know how close the Erasers are. They might be hot on our trail."

"Max thought you'd say that. That's why she wanted me to say that there's another town we can see coming up in a couple miles in that direction." He pointed to our left.

"It's risky," I said, turning over the idea in my head. "Running through empty desert makes me an especially easy target. If they see us go to that city, we're dead. Are you guys sure you can't hang in there a little longer?"

Fang nodded. "Gazzy's about to fall out of the sky," he said. "We're all feeling lightheaded and it's really hot out."

I bit my lip and glanced up. The kids were flying low like I'd instructed, so I could see from my vantage point how tired they were. They were wavering very obviously, and the Gasman was especially struggling.

"Fine," I sighed. "Tell them we're turning on my signal, and that they've got find some energy to tap into because we've got to go _fast_."

Fang nodded and swooped rather gracefully back up. It seemed like he was really starting to get the hang of the whole flying business.

I waited until Max was looking at me, at which point I gave her a thumbs up—creative signal, I know—and banked left. I scanned my surroundings as I sprinted through the open desert and saw nothing but tumbleweeds, but my vision clearly wasn't as good as the birdkids'.

I was really booking it, and I could feel the sand spraying up behind me as my feet dug in.

And then suddenly, I was at the edge of the next village. I skidded to a halt and looked up for the kids, but they weren't above me. My heart started to race, but then I looked back and saw them coming in the distance. I shielded my eyes with the hand that wasn't holding Angel to look at them; they were moving pretty darn fast. Which begs the question: how fast was _I _going?"

I continued to scan the desert while I waited, and didn't see anything of interest. We were safe, at least for a few minutes. Unless the Erasers had cloaking devices, which would really, _really_ suck.

"How'd you get here so fast?" Max asked, wheezing as they all landed around me a few minutes later.

I shrugged. "Beats me. Now come on; we don't have any time to lose. I don't have a ton of money, so Angel and I will sit tight for a little bit. We'll hit up the McDonald's dollar menu, but each of you can only get three things. I've got roughly fifteen dollars. It'll have to tie you over until we can get something more. What does everybody want?"

The kids rung in their orders, and then waited in the back of the building while I went in and collected their meals.

Ever seen the show _Gone in Seconds_? Those hamburgers and Chicken McNuggets should have been featured on it. They pounced on me the minute I rounded the corner, and in the blink of an eye the food had disappeared.

Gazzy groaned, and at first I thought it was because he was so full, but then he wailed, "I'm still so hungry."

It was going to be a long day.

—

Sabina had a full bladder, but she refused to stop.

_Alex needs me_, she thought with her jaw set. _It's the first time in my life that I've been seriously needed and I'm not going to blow it_.

She was driving through a long, empty stretch when her phone rang. It was the same number that Alex called from last, and she vaguely wondered why he was still in the same place before picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?"

Sabina blinked, her brow furrowing. It wasn't Alex; it was a low, smooth voice. Why would somebody call her if they didn't know who she was?

"Who is _this_?" She asked.

"A friend."

It didn't _sound_ like a friend, though, so she promptly hung up.

She didn't know what Alex was involved in, but her instinct told her to be on her guard. Talking to suspicious strangers calling from the payphone Alex had been at didn't sound like a very good idea. She didn't want to say something that gave him away, and she especially didn't want to have her call traced.

A few minutes later, her phone rang again.

It was a different number. She was apprehensive about answering, but she couldn't leave Alex hanging if it was him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Miss. Pleasure. This is John Smith from California State Police Department. Are you acquainted with an 'Alex Rider'?"

It was almost the exact same voice as before.

And it knew her name.

"No, I don't think so. I have a family friend named Dawn Rider, but that's about it. I'm sorry, this is a bad time for me to talk, would you mind calling back later?"

"Okay, but—"

"Thanks, bye!"

She hung up and glanced at her phone; it said 'Call Ended- 00:00:23'. In a movie she saw once, they couldn't trace the call unless it was over a minute. She hoped that held true. Even so, she knew that she needed to get to Alex, and she needed to get to him _now_.

Whoever was on the phone, it wasn't John Smith from the police department. It wasn't a friend, and it wasn't someone she wanted to ever come face to face with.

Whoever was on the phone was on to Alex and whatever he was doing. Sabina's foot pressed down harder on the gas, and she watched anxiously as the needle on the speedometer crept higher and higher.

—

"Did you trace the call?" 087 asked 093.

"No," 093 replied. "Little rat hung up too quickly. Did 145's group get a reading on her house?"

"It's coming through now."

They waited until the address came up on their device to say anything further.

"San Francisco," 087 said. "Looks like we're taking a little road trip."

"But I thought the girl was on the highway," 052 asked, confused.

"She is, Stupid," 093 snapped. "We're going to send her and her family a message, though. If she wants to come home, we're going to make sure there's nothing to go home to."

"Isn't that kind of mean?"

093 groaned. 052 was so stupid that it was a liability.

"You want to see mean?"

093 didn't wait for an answer; in one swift motion, he took his gun out of its holster and shot 052 square between the eyes. He then took the device from 087 and typed a message to the headquarters, asking for a replacement Eraser, and demanding that mistakes like 052 didn't happen again.

**AN: By the way, I've noticed a lot of you are asking questions in your reviews. It would be obnoxious to answer them all here, but if after the next few chapters, you still have questions, feel free to send me a PM and I'll be happy to answer any inquiries.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: So, I took a little longer than I'd hoped, but it hasn't been TOO long, right? I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for your patience with me. Also, last chapter I mentioned Alex having his ninja sneakers on, but he lost one, so that's inaccurate. Sorry, and thanks to The Gentleman Ghost for pointing that out. Enjoy chapter fourteen everyone!**

-Chapter Fourteen-

We made it to Bakersfield without another run-in with the Erasers. We'd gone off track, but using the map I'd bought back at Lake Mead, we managed to find our way to Bakersfield. The kids were always hungry, and several times we'd actually stooped to dumpster-diving. Even I woofed down some half-eaten chicken nuggets and some discarded fried rice—when you're really hungry, you'll eat anything.

When I called Sabina, we'd changed the rendezvous point to a place called Hanford. She'd sounded worried and paranoid, and told me that she needed to talk to me, but not over the phone. Then she'd hung up.

Lovely.

Now, we had just passed a sign that read 'Hanford, One Mile.' I was anxious to meet Sabina, to find out what was bothering her so much that she couldn't say it over the phone. I was scared that something was really wrong and, all things considered, I had a right to be.

A few minutes later, Max and the gang swooped down to me so that we could walk into the town. We hung back around the outskirts where we couldn't easily be seen. I needed some time to find and talk to Sabina before all heck broke loose, so we were going to have to find a place for the kids to hide. We were headed towards a large trunked tree when I felt a tug on the end of my shirt.

"Alex, that lady is staring at you," Nudge said. I looked in the direction she was pointing.

There she was, leaning against an SUV and shielding her eyes from the sun. I couldn't see her well from where I was, but I knew for sure that it was Sabina. I would know her anywhere.

I handed Angel to Max and promised that I'd be right back, and to hide behind the tree, then took off towards Sabina, trying not to run at my full speed. I think I was still going a little too fast, though, because the first expression I could make out on her face was surprise.

"Alex?" She called. I was already skidding to a halt just in front of her.

We just stared at each other for a few moments, slightly incredulous. I hadn't seen her in so long, and now she was…here.

"Did your hair get lighter?" She finally asked in a weak voice.

I smiled and threw my arms around her, hugging her tightly to my chest.

"Thank you so much for coming," I said into her hair.

"I wouldn't have left you hanging," she replied, the sound muffled by my back.

We broke apart, and I stared briefly into her soft-yet-no-nonsense eyes before taking a deep breath.

"All right, I have some explaining to do," I said quietly. I glanced over my shoulder, and could just make out the kids heads, peering around the tall tree.

"Why don't you introduce me to the kids first," Sabina suggested, but I shook my head. I know that a picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes a thousand words are needed so that the picture doesn't scare the crap out of someone.

"I think I'd better explain before I do anything. Can we sit?"

We sat down on her bumper so that we could keep an eye on the kids, and so that I could keep an eye out for Erasers.

"I'm going to explain this all, and if I go to fast, feel free to stop me, but I'm going to try to get through everything quickly so that we can get out of here." She nodded, and I continued.

"I'm a spy for MI6, and my—"

"What?"

"That's not the weirdest thing I'm about to tell you, just as a heads up."

"Oh, grand. A spy, really? How is that possible?"

"That's a whole other can of worms, trust me. My dad was a spy, and now I am. I know it's hard to believe, but everything I say in the next few minutes is going to be hard to believe, and I need you to just have a little faith. Can you do that?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have faith in you, Alex," she pointed out, giving me a steady glance.

"Good point." I had a flash of guilt and uncertainty, but it was too late to turn back now. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them again they were locked on hers.

"My latest mission was to go inspect this company called Itex," I finally said. "There were rumors about…unethical practices, to say in the least. It was thought that they were taking kids from this orphanage, so I went there and pretended to be an orphan. I met this kid named Charlie and he was already slated to go 'work' in Itex.

"Then it was my turn. I went to this 'doctor's office' where they made me do all these tests, like swimming and weight lifting and running—stuff you wouldn't think you would have to do in a doctor's office. Shortly after that, I was taken to the Itex lab to 'work', only I wasn't working."

I took a breath to glance at Sabina, who was staring straight forward, concentrating on my words. When I stopped, she looked at me.

"Well, what did you do there?" She prompted, seeming confused and a little worried.

"I sat in cage." Her eyes widened, but I kept on going. "Charlie was in the cage next to me. They had been experimenting on him. He was so messed up I hardly recognize him, and not long after I arrived, he died. I snagged his journal, which I still have. He wrote about his experiences until he couldn't write anymore."

"You kept it for proof, right?"

"Well, at first it was for proof. Now, though, I don't think I'll need it," I said, looking back to the kids.

"Jeez, Alex, stop being so cryptic. Just tell me the rest of the story. I can take it."

"Well, I met these kids, whose cages were also near mine. They had never lived outside of the lab. They had been experimented on from the time they were conceived. They, ah…"

"Just spit it out," Sabina said flatly. I looked at her, and it suddenly occurred to me that she was right. She could take it. She was stronger than I gave her credit for.

"They have wings," I managed. "The scientists at Itex played around with their DNA, and so they're part bird." I snuck a glance at Sabina again, and kept going once I ascertained that she wasn't going to go screaming into the distance.

"They wanted out. I wanted out. I started thinking of an escape plan, and then I was taken. They knocked me out and did who knows what to me. I woke up four day later, naked in some kind of liquid. Then they pulled me out and stuck me on a metal table to examine me. I felt sick and freezing, and some scientist had a conscience and went haywire. They then put me in my cage again. Some scientists came by and talked about me like I was an animal, saying how I had snow leopard DNA in me and I would be able to run fast and jump far and climb well.

"Then I found my tail."

"Whoa. Hold up," Sabina interrupted. "I see no tail."

I stood up and worked my tail out of the leg of my pants. It felt good to finally stretch it out. Sabina stared incredulously. Finally she was showing a little bit of shock. I figured that my story didn't really seem real to her until she saw actual, tangible evidence.

She stared at me intently without interrupting as I sped through the remainder of my story. I told her about our escape, about the kids' appetites, about the Erasers, about everything. I was talking a mile a minute, but she didn't stop me until I finished with, "And so now I'm here."

"That's…a lot to take in," she said slowly.

"Are you okay?"

Sabina's eyes met mine again, and she nodded. "I'm good. It'll take a little bit of time for me to really wrap my brain around everything, but it's nothing I can't handle. We've probably got to get going, right? Let's go get the kids."

"They're over here. Come on."

As we walked towards the kids, I noticed that she looked surprisingly composed. I don't really know what I was expecting—Screaming? Running? Denial?—but she didn't seem too phased. Whatever she was feeling, she kept it on the inside. Outwardly, she looked completely normal. It was a little weird, I must say.

"Wait, Alex." She stopped me when we were about half way to where the kids were waiting. I could see Max peeking out from behind the tree, but she didn't come towards us.

"What?"

"I got these call from the same number you called me with. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. They asked if I knew you and said they were the police…I hung up as fast as I could so they couldn't trace me, but I don't know. It might have been those…um…Scissors?"

"Erasers," I corrected, and she reddened.

"Erasers, sorry. I've got a lot on my mind. But do you think it could be them? Do they talk like normal people?"

"They do. And they look like them, too, when they're not morphed. It could have been them. And—wait. When you say they asked for me, did they say my last name, too?"

"Yeah," she said, confirming my fears. "They asked if I knew an Alex Rider."

I cursed under my breath.

"Why does that matter?" She demanded.

"The orphanage gave Itex my alias, Alex Harrison. It's highly likely that they figured out I was a spy. I don't know how they figured it out, though. Unless…" I pulled my draw-string bag off my back and pulled it open. I saw wrappers, a few pennies, my remaining ninja sneaker, Charlie's journal, my tourist shirt, my glasses, my extra lenses, and…that was it. I dug through it like a raccoon in a trash can, and came up short. My 'mother's broach' was missing.

"I lost one of my gadgets," I told Sabina, who was finally showing some signs of anxiety.

"What?"

"I lost this broach I had to communicate with MI6. It's gone. I don't know where I lost it—maybe at the facility, maybe on my way here… I don't know."

She took a deep breath. "Okay, anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there anything else I should know before I risk everything I have in order to help you?"

"I think that's it," I replied calmly.

"Well then," she said in a business-like manner. "Introduce me to the kids."

**AN: I've already started the next chapters, so keep your fingers crossed and maybe I'll update within the century(: **

**Also, what do you guys think of my new cover for this story? I don't know how well you can see it, but I used a sunset picture I took and added some words I think this new story cover idea is pretty cool.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Max's POV

**AN: Hi! Okay, so this is sort of a filler chapter, like the last one, and I do apologize, but I really don't want to rush into all the action. I'm going to give you prier warning this time: I don't know when I will next update; it might not be for a little while, because school starts in two weeks and I have a TON of summer work to get done. Procrastination is my middle name. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this little chapter, and I will try my hardest to not take TOO long.**

I liked Sabina right off the bat. I was still a little upset at Alex for dragging the poor girl into this mess, but she seemed to be handling everything all right.

She was as tall as Alex (which was gigantic from my point of view) and seemed strong and sturdy. She had a pretty smile and a calm attitude that settled my nerves just a little. And that says a lot.

Alex introduced us, and she seemed almost completely unfazed by the whole situation. The one thing she was appalled by, though, was Angel's full diaper.

"Good lord, Alex, you're torturing the poor thing!" She cried, lifting up Angel's gown to reveal a diaper that was sagging so much it was barely staying on.

"I knew something smelled bad," Nudge said. "But I figured it was just Gazzy."

"Hey!" Gazzy protested. "I do _not_ smell like pee. I smell like other stuff. Like farts. That's _it_."

"All right, first thing's first, I'm going to go buy the poor baby some diapers. You guys can wait in my car. There's a whole bunch of clothes in the back seat if you want to dig them out and see if anything fits."

So we Sabina showed us to her car and started towards a nearby store, and Alex sat in the passenger seat with Angel while the rest of us crammed in the back with all of the stuff she packed. The next step was finding something to wear that would look decent in public, or at least a step up from hospital gowns. Trust me; it's not as easy as it sounds.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, we dug through everything she had to find something that would work. Nudge, Angel and I had the least trouble: I found a small enough t-shirt that only went down to the middle of my thighs and a pair of running shorts that I could tie nice and tight, and Nudge wore a camisole as a dress, ripping the straps off the back and having me tie them behind her neck. Alex did the same for Angel, tying up some of the excess in the back with a scrunchie, even though it still ended after her feet. Alex used Sabina's keys to cut wing holes into our shirts, since we decided that if we had to go out, there were more than enough jackets to hide our wings.

The boys weren't so fortunate.

Fang and Iggy were apparently too cool and mature to wear anything of Sabina's, which would be closest to their size, even though many of the cotton tee shirts could have easily belonged to a boy. Instead, they insisted on wearing her dad's clothes, and looking more than a little ridiculous.

Before I had a chance to stop him, Fang ripped the sleeves off of the button-up he was planning to wear. I reprimanded him for wrecking something that wasn't his, but then remembered that we were all cutting gaping holes in the back, so I let him rip some fabric off the bottom, too. The outcome looked a little like something out of the Flinstones, and it looked even worse when he put on a pair of sport shorts that fit him like pants. At least he had the presence of mind to tuck in his shirt, which was more than could be said for Iggy, who had the same look minus the ripped fabric.

"I'm blind," he said, making gestures with his hands, which were well hidden by the enormous sleeves of the shirt. "I don't have to look good. I can just be like, 'I'm blind', and people will feel bad for me and not care if I was walking around naked."

"Don't get any ideas," I said with a wasted scowl.

Gazzy wanted to be 'cool' like Iggy and Fang, but it was out of the question to let him wear the men's clothing. Even the t-shirt I wrangled him into went down to his knees, which mortified him even further because Nudge told him it looked like a dress.

The older boys were too macho to even let Alex cut the slits in their shirts, so Fang did it himself for both of them. Of course, then Gazzy started crying because boring old Alex had cut his slits and it was no fair. Predictably, Fang lost his concentration with Gazzy wailing and cut himself in the back, and he started sniffling even though I knew it was killing him to show any signs of weakness. Angel evidently was overwhelmed with seeing other people cry, and promptly burst into tears herself.

Basically, the entire car was chaos.

I didn't know what to do, so I began pressing an extra shirt into Fang's cut to stop the bleeding while Alex tried to calm Angel and Gazzy.

"Max! Ouch! Stop it!" Fang cried, swatting my hand away.

"You're bleeding though!"

"I'm FINE!" He shouted with tears running down his cheeks.

"Clearly you aren't, you freak!"

"Leave me alone! I've got it!"

And so the craziness continued for a couple more minutes, which felt like a lifetime, by the way—until Sabina burst into the truck and demanded to know what was going on.

I almost couldn't take it anymore. Living in cages, I could handle, but being in a crammed, messy car with the rest of my crazy family? Forget about it.

—

Alex's POV

Sabina was furious when she opened her car door to see a bunch of crying kids, one with a bloody back. Can you guess who, exactly, she was mad at?

"Alex! Jeez, what have you done?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you! You let these poor kids go insane. This little one," she said, guiding Fang out of the car so that she could inspect his back, "is clearly injured, and you're letting another kid clean it up. Here; make yourself useful." She tossed the pack of diapers at me, and it landed next to my left elbow.

"I can't change a diaper," I said solemnly as she pulled off Fang's ripped up shirt, barely audible over Angel's crying. The Gasman's, thankfully, had stopped.

"It's not that hard," she scoffed. "They're Pampers, Alex. You don't have to do any pinning. You just put it on."

"But—"

"Don't argue with me!" She snapped, looking a little scary. "The poor thing will probably stop crying once you've changed her diaper."

I glanced down at Angel, then at the diapers. I've narrowly escaped death a few times, saved thousands of lives, and apprehended scary villains. Never before, though, have I ever changed a diaper.

I wrestled with the diaper for a few long and agonizing minutes, but when I finally got it to stay on it was all twisted and uncomfortable looking. By this time, Sabina had finished wrapping Fang up, so she grabbed Angel from me and took the new diaper off.

"Okay, Alex, watch and learn," she said, straightening the diaper and laying it on the hood of the car. Next, she gently and carefully placed Angel's bare bottom on the back of the diaper, pulled the top up, and pulled the sides in.

"You make it look easy," I scoffed as Angel's cries slowly quieted.

"That's because it _is_ easy, you butt. You made it way more complicated than it needed to be." She held Angel up and bounced her on her hip. "Isn't that better? Yeah, don't worry, big mean Alex isn't going to torture you any longer," Sabina cooed.

"Oh that's a grand thing to say to an impressionable two-year-old. She's going to develop a complex."

"Aw, you shush up. Here, can I trust you to hold Angel while I get Fang a shirt?"

So for the next ten minutes, Sabina used a pair of scissors that she had packed to cut up everybody's shirts so that they sort of fit and had slits in the back for their wings. Gazzy was happy when she told him that the shirt he was wearing belonged to her male cousin, which may or may not have been a lie, and was even happier when she cut it so that it was a normal size. She pinned up the bottom of everybody's shorts and even the macho older boys didn't complain.

She even tidied up the back seats so there was room for the kids to sit. All of this, in just ten minutes. Sometimes I just don't understand the world.

"Well now, Alex, what do you say?" She asked as she sat down in the driver's seat.

"I could have done that," I muttered. "You didn't tell me that you had pins and scissors."

"I don't think scissors and pins would have helped you one bit. You can't even change a diaper. Admit it: you need me."

"Whatever."

"Just thank the lord that you had the brains to call me. Now, we have to get out of here before those Erasers of yours catch—"

"Speak of the devil!" Max cried. "Floor it, Sabina!"

And that's when the first bullet hit Sabina's car.

The first of many.

**AN: PS. I haven't gotten the last Max Ride book yet, so don't give away anything, I beg of you! **


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

**AN: I'M BAAAACK. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to update in forever. Four AP classes is serious work, not to mention writing for the News, looking at colleges, SAT prep… all that fun stuff. I had my last midterm today, though, and it feels good to be able to relax and write again. I hope you guys still enjoy the fic, and please forgive me!**

Those of you who know me know that I've had my share of high pressure situations. Never before, though, have I been attacked by giant wolf-people carrying guns while being responsible for the safety of six mutated children.

There's a first for everything, I guess.

Sabina reversed forcefully and without a lot of care, chipping some of the paint of a neighboring car as she skidded out of the parking lot. Bullets dinged off of the back of the car, precariously close to the gas tank.

"GET DOWN," I shouted to the kids, who were frozen in terror. Max pushed the others down and then ducked so that all five of them were crammed into the small space between the front and back seats.

I glanced at the speedometer. It read 85mph, and was steadily increasing.

"How long have you been driving?" I asked Sabina nervously, who was staring straight ahead with her hands clenching the wheel so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"I've had my license for three and a half months," she said through clenched teeth. I gulped. It wasn't like I was going to tell her to slow down.

The Erasers, it turns out, had a car of their own. A sleek black SUV was rapidly approaching in the rearview mirror. I didn't even check the speed; we had to be going at least a hundred at that point. I was glued to the back of my seat, cradling Angel to my chest.

There was a loud popping noise as another bullet hit the car, inches away from smashing the window. I glanced in the mirror to see the ugly bastards leaning out of the windows to shoot at us.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I craned my neck back to see Iggy staring just past my face, holding out a strange looking contraption.

"Pull the string and throw it out the window," he told me. I saw a tiny piece of thread hanging off of the bulky cluster of wire and metal.

"Iggy, where in God's name did you—"

"Just do it!" He cried, shoving it in my face. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing!"

I just looked at him. He couldn't even see; how could he know what the device would do? How had he even acquired it?

"Listen to him," Max insisted.

I didn't have many other options. The distance between us and them was constant, but we couldn't stay this fast forever, and what if there was a sudden turn or another car?

I rolled down the window. Took a deep breath. Prayed that Iggy somehow knew what he was doing. Pulled the string and whipped it out the open window just as a bullet whizzed past.

There was a fleeting moment in which I thought nothing would happen. I mean, I'd been working off of instructions given to me by a blind ten year old who'd grown up in a cage, after all.

But then, in the blink of an eye, the road behind us exploded.

The car jerked forward even faster as Sabina tried to get us away from the explosion, while Iggy and Gazzy hooped and hollered like they'd been granted a lifetime supply of Nutella.

Behind us, car parts flew in every which direction. There was a secondary explosion seconds after the first, which I presumed was because of the firearms that the Erasers had. Once the shock began to subside in the rest of us, we started cheering as well. Sabina honked the horn and shouted "Heck yeah!"

I kept my eyes trained on the rearview mirror, waiting for an Eraser to burst from the burning car. But it didn't happen. We put more and more distance between the car and us, and eventually it was nothing but a flicker in the distance.

Sabina gradually slowed to a reasonable speed.

"I still can't believe that worked," Iggy said excitedly, rubbing his tiny hands together. "Just think about the possibilities, Gaz."

"Wait, can we go over how exactly you know how to make a bomb?" Sabina interrupted.

Iggy just shrugged. "The whitecoates did give us education. They taught us how to read and write when we were little, and they taught us some math and science. I think it was for some study or something. I just thought about the things we learned about elements and metals and what reacts with what and I put together a bomb. And it worked!"

"You're a genius," I told Iggy seriously. "I couldn't even stay awake in Chemistry class."

"I can't see how," Iggy scoffed.

"You can't _see_ anything," four year old Gazzy pointed out. Little kids don't have much of a filter. Iggy scowled in his direction.

"That's not true. I can _see_ that you're a moron," he quipped.

Sabina reached over and cranked up the volume. Some country song began booming through her speakers, shaking the car a little.

We all groaned.

"My car, my music," Sabina said happily. I looked at the road ahead: long, winding, monotonous. Then I looked back at Sabina, who began to sing along. Behind me, Iggy and Gazzy were bickering again.

It was going to be a long ride.

—

"Reservation for Wilkins," Sabina said politely to the lady at the reception. I held Angel in one arm and Gazzy's hand with the other.

"May I see your ID?"

"Yes, of course."

Sabina handed over a fake ID. It had her smiling picture in the corner, but 'Lacey Wilkins, age 24' on the left. She told me she'd gotten the fake ID in order to vote, but I think we all know that wasn't the only reason.

"Cash or cedit?"

"Cash."

While Sabina paid, I took the kids over to look at a fish tank in the lobby. They stared in amazement as the vibrantly colored fish swam through the plastic plants and sunken ship figurines.

"You act like you've never seen a fish before," I laughed as Nudge pressed her nose up against glass.

"We haven't," Fang said quietly.

I should have known. I mean, it's not like they'd been outside before. They probably didn't even really understand the concept of the hotel we were staying in. But somehow it still managed to get to me that the older kids had been around ten years and never seen a fish (or at least one that wasn't mounted on a human body).

"We're going to have our own fish some day," I told the kids. I really shouldn't have gotten their hopes up, I know, but I couldn't help myself. They were so thrilled. "We're going to have our own house, and it's going to be safe, and we're going to have fish and puppies and maybe a few horses."

The kids gaped at me. Even Iggy, who could only run his fingers along the smooth glass of the tank, had wide unseeing eyes.

"All set guys, let's go," Sabina said as she approached us. She handed me a key card and we headed towards the elevator.

"What are you telling them?" She whispered in my ear. I shrugged as we crammed into the elevator.

There were two girls getting in, too, about my age. They whispered to each other as we piled in, presumably gossiping about our rag-tag group. I think I head 'Brad and Angelina' a few times. Well, if they thought I looked like Brad Pitt, who was I to complain?

I wondered if people actually thought Sabina and I were adults, and that the kids were somehow ours. I probably looked a few years older, with the bags under my eyes and the grime on my face, and I noticed that Sabina had on more makeup than she'd worn the last time I'd seen her. Still, though, she didn't look quite 24 to me. I hoped nobody cared enough to notice.

We unlocked the door to our room and herded the kids inside. It was pretty big for a double, so we weren't too cramped. The clock on the nightstand read ten o'clock, and we all wanted to sleep after the long day. Sabina wouldn't allow it, though.

"Bath time," she announced, clapping her hands together.

"Sabina," I complained, "can't we just wash up in the morning?"

"Absolutely not. I'll go wash Angel first, and you guys can find something to watch on TV. Don't even think about playing sleep when I get back." She swiftly took Angel from my arms, went into the bathroom, and shut the door.

"Can you tell us some more about what we're going to do?" Nudge asked when we were all sitting on one of the beds.

"Well, we're going to have a pretty crappy house at first. It's going to be very basic and cramped and nothing special. But Sabina and I are going to work and maybe my friends in England will send me money and we can buy a bigger house with lots of land for you to fly around in. And we'll have a pond that's always warm enough to swim in, with lots of pretty fish."

"And horses?" Nudge inquired.

"Maybe. It depends how much money we can save up. We might only have enough to buy one."

She giggled. "One is okay!"

"Can we get a dragon too?" Gazzy asked. "Dragons are so cool. They can fly with us and shoot fire at the Erasers." He spread his stubby wings out and blew on Iggy, who shoved him away with impressive accuracy.

Our little fantasy took me back to ninth grade English. _Of Mice and Men_, by John Steinbeck. _"Tell me about the rabbits, George_."

I just really hoped our story would have a happier ending.

**AN: I can't make any promises about the next update, but I'm trying to procrastinate my research project right now so you never know! You guys are awesome for sticking with me. I hope to write again soon!**


	17. Chapter 17

-Chapter Seventeen-

Because Sabina and I are saints, we let the kids share the beds. We couldn't, after all, pass by an opportunity to give the kids their first experience sleeping on a bed. Fang an Iggy shared one bed, while Max, Gazzy and Nudge slept horizontally on the other. We cleared out the closet and made a little crib inside for Angel by placing a sideways chair at the entrance (I know it sounds bad, but it looked comfortable and where else were we going to put her?). I decided to take the chivalrous route and let Sabina take the pull-out couch while I slept on the floor.

The kids were asleep when I heard Sabina hissing my name.

"What?" I whispered back.

"You can share the pull out with me. There's plenty of room. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor."

I rolled my eyes. "It's fine, Sabina. Just go to sleep."

"No, really. We don't know what kind of bugs and bacteria are on that floor," she argued.

"Do you really think they're not on that futon?"

"That blanket doesn't even cover your toes. You're going to be freezing. You need your rest."

"Sab. I know you just want to sleep with me, but it's not going to happen," I joked. She wasn't amused. The springs of the pull-out squeaked as she stepped off and came next to me. She threw her pillow down next to mine and laid down.

"You're being ridiculous," I muttered. "Are you really going to be this stubborn? I get it. You're altruistic. Now you can go back to your futon and sleep."

"How do you know I'm being altruistic? What if I'm just really scared?"

I tried to see her expression through the darkness, but I didn't need to. Her voice said it all. She _was_ scared.

"Hey, you don't have to be scared," I said. "Really."

"Are you kidding me? Alex, I don't know if you've noticed, but there are bullet holes in my car. There are people—or _things_—chasing us, and I don't understand any of this. My parents don't know where I am, and I don't have unlimited funds. Not to mention we're the difference between life and death for six innocent kids. I'm holding it together for their sake, but I'm terrified."

I found her hand and held it tightly, trying to be comforting. "I mean, I've seen worse," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Seriously, though. I wouldn't have dragged you into this if I wasn't fully prepared to keep you safe."

"Nudge told me what you said, about buying a house and horses. Do you really think that's going to happen? What about school, and our families, our friends?"

"I don't know what's going to happen," I told her honestly. "I'm just trying to take this day by day. But don't worry about it, okay? I always find a way out of these things."

She paused for a moment.

"I still want you to sleep on the futon with me."

I sighed, and we relocated to the noisy springs of the pull-out couch. It was a step up from the floor, though, and my toes were much warmer. Sabina snuggled up to me, and my heart sped up. Leave it to me to keep calm while being shot at, only to freak out when a girl got close. Teenage boy problems.

I wrapped my tail around the two of us, providing extra warmth. Her breathing slowly evened out, and I was sure she was asleep when she surprised me by adding one last comment.

"I'm glad you called me," she murmured.

"Me too," I whispered. We were both asleep in seconds.

—

There's one not-so-fun part about having a tail, as I've discovered. It doesn't dry very quickly.

I managed to get out of showering last night, but Sabina said I couldn't get breakfast until I showered in the morning. She can be such a mom sometimes.

But I remembered our previous night's conversation. I figured it was better to have her bossing us around than breaking down. So I took a shower, only when I shoved my tail into my pant-leg, the water that was still clinging to my fur got my pants all wet. In the end, we blow-dried it, which is about as embarrassing as it gets.

Men do not blow dry.

Plus I smelled like Sabina's Cherry Blossom body soap because the soaps that came with the room were all used up. It took all my self control not to head down to the weight room and stink it all off.

After that was all over, we headed down to the lobby for a complimentary breakfast. All I can say, is thank God for free food. The kids got to show us how much they really could eat, and let's just say I felt bad for the other people in the hotel. I was super hungry and went up for thirds. Gazzy was on his fifth heaping plate by the time he was somewhat full. We stuck some apples and granola bars and bagels in Sabina's purse before we checked out and hit the road again.

But not before I made an important call.

Sabina was checking out with the kids, and I ran up to the room briefly. I dialed the number for MI6.

"Royal and General Bank, how can I help you?" Asked a calm and polite sounding receptionist.

"This is Alex Rider. I need to speak to Alan Blunt."

"I'm sorry, but we do not have a Mr. Blunt working here. Do you have the wrong location?"

"Don't feed me that crap. I need to talk to Blunt immediately. This is an emergency."

"I'm sorry Sir, but we're a bank, not a police station. Is there something else I can help you with?"

"I know you're not a bank! Get me Blunt or I swear to God you'll regret it!"

The next thing I heard was a dial tone. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

I threw the phone on its holder and punched the mattress. I'd asked for help getting out of the School, and they'd left me high and dry. Now they were again leaving me up the creek without a paddle. Alone, where nobody was depending on me to be the calm one, I threw a pillow against the wall. Yeah, I'd seen worse, and yeah, I was hell-bent on keeping Sabina and the kids safe. But how was I supposed to do that when I didn't even completely know what was going on?

Maybe I was scared too.

I was too young to be a parent, especially to a whole bunch of kids. And kids with wing, too. I was too immature to be the adult, to be responsible. MI6 got me into the mess, and now they were pretending I didn't exist. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to give the kids a good life?

I picked up the phone again and dialed.

"Hello?"

Her voice resonated through my skull and filled me immediately with comfort.

"Jack. It's me."

"Alex? Oh my God, Alex! Where are you? I knew you weren't dead!"

"I'm—wait, what?" I stopped myself short. Did she say what I thought she said?

"Oh, Alex, it was horrible! Those ugly uptight sons-a-bitches came by and told me you'd died. I knew it wasn't true though. I knew because if you were really dead, I'd feel it, I know I would. They were so cold and unforgiving and I just wanted to punch them in the face. But where are you? I saw the American number. I'll take the next flight there."

I gulped. I couldn't put Jack at risk, too. But I wasn't getting any help from MI6, and there was only so much Sabina could do.

"Can I call you back sometime in the next few days? I want to see how things progress."

"Alex, you can't leave me wondering. Tell me what's going on."

"I don't want to put you in danger," I said. "But I promise I'll call back."

"You also promised me your mission would be easy, and it doesn't seem that way right now."

I could have laughed. Easy? Yeah right.

"Just trust me, Jack. I have a feeling I'm going to need you a whole lot in the near future. You're going to wish you were still wondering about me."

"I could never wish that," she said seriously. "I mean it."

I thought for a moment. Maybe there was a way Jack could help me without coming to the States and risking her life.

"I have an idea," I said, "but I'm not sure if it'll work out."

"Let me hear it," Jack replied. "I'm happy to help."

—

Jack Starbright smoothed down the front of her blazer. She tucked a flat-ironed strand of hair behind her ear, and rapped lightly on the door of apartment number 42.

The door opened immediately, causing Jack to wonder self-consciously if he'd been watching her fiddle through the peep-hole for the last five minutes.

"Miss. Starbright, glad you could make it."

"Thank you for having me on such short notice, William," Jack responded.

"Anything for an old friend," he said as he stepped to the side and allowed her to enter his spacious and tidy apartment.

He was wearing a suit and tie, because William Franks always wore a suit and tie. Ian once said that his friend ironed his night-shirts and boxers. It wouldn't surprise Jack. The apartment was modern and so clean that Jack wished she'd left her shoes in the hall. The granite tile and white carpet in the other room, coupled with the imposing chandelier and long mahogany dining table that William shared only with himself, it was an apartment fit for a king.

He smiled invitingly and pulled out a chair at the table, gesturing for Jack to sit down. She did so, and he went into another area of the apartment. He came back a moment later with two bottles of wine.

"I can't remember. Did you prefer red or white?"

Jack's eyes bulged at the expensive brands. She usually just drank whatever was on sale.

"White, please," she said anyway.

William poured a glass for himself and a glass for her, and took a seat across the table.

"It's been too long, Jack. I don't believe I've seen you since the funeral. How have you been?"

"Fine, thank you." She tried not to show how much William intimidated her. That was not a way to get somebody to do something for you. She took a sip of her wine and gazed at him levelly.

"And Alex? I trust he is well? I was proud to hear of his recent accomplishments."

"He's actually the reason I'm here," Jack said steadily. William raised an eyebrow. "MI6 has sent him out on a dangerous mission, and the moment he needs help they won't give it to him."

William nodded.

He was supposed to be an agent, back in the day. They chose him right out of college for his impressive endurance, and his even more impressive cunning. That's where he met and befriended Ian Rider. He was brilliant and brave, but the only thing he didn't have going for him was his insides. He had a serious heart condition, and a near-death scare on his first assignment spelled the end of his short lived career. Now he was the CEO of some company that made wireless headphones, but he still had close ties with MI6. And there was one other thing.

"I'm sorry Jack, but I'm not doing much of that anymore. I'm getting old."

Jack eyed him dubiously. "You can't be older than thirty-five."

"I'm thirty-three, actually, but that's just it. I don't want to work outside of the law anymore. I'm well off right now. I want stability, maybe a family some day. I don't want any more close calls," he explained.

"Come on, William. As a favor to an old friend. You owe Ian that much."

Ian had been with William when his heart had given out, and it was Ian who carried him a mile and a half to the hospital. It had been a while ago, but William had always felt indebted to Ian. Even after he died. It probably wasn't fair to play that card, but this was business. Jack wasn't there to play fair.

"What exactly are we talking about here? A fake ID? I can do a driver's license, but that's as far as I'll go."

She shook her head. "I need you to create somebody. I need a fake license, a fake birth certificate, a fake social security number, a fake name for a credit card hooked up to a real bank account."

"That's a tall order, Jack. A serious favor."

"I know. And I'll pay as much as you ask, not that you need the money."

William considered for a long moment while Jack waited impatiently. Finally, he sighed. "It _will_ cost you, but I won't be outrageous. But you've got to know, I haven't been on a date in over a year."

Jack blinked. The abrupt change in topic threw her off. "I'm sorry?"

"If I agree to do this for you, you need to agree to go on a date with me."

She almost laughed. Almost. Instead, she nodded, feeling relief wash over her. "It's a deal."

They shook on it.

Jack left the apartment, imagining what it would be like to be on a date with a man who ironed his boxers. Alex was _so_ going to owe her.

**AN: Do you guys like this much fluff or is it annoying? I know it was more or less a filler chapter, and I hope to get the action back up next chapter. Hope to write again soon!**


	18. Chapter 18

-Chapter Eighteen-

My new name was William Garrison. Like the pre-Civil War abolitionist in America, as Sabina told me. I guess we're kind of similar in a weird sort of way: he wanted to free slaves and I wanted to free mutants. We were both fighting against people who treated certain people as animals.

My bank account was set up so that I could access an account that Jack kept stocked with plenty of money. I felt terrible about that part—she would be dirt poor in time if Sabina and I didn't figure out something sustainable. The credit card was being mailed to Sabina's house, so we would have to go there to get it in a couple of days. And by _we_, I mean _me_.

"You're not going to run there," Sabina said angrily when I told her she wouldn't be coming. "It's not safe and you'll get exhausted. We'll drive."

"Absolutely not. _That's_ not safe. If they somehow figure out that you're connected—if they got your license plate or something—your house is the first place they'll look. There's no way we can go to your house in a car with bullet holes in it without looking a tad conspicuous. Plus, what if your parents are there? Do you really want to have to deal with that?

"Well I don't know what to tell you, Alex. I'm not going to let you leave me for God knows how long, exposed to anybody and everybody in this freaking country." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

"What if I don't run?" I wondered, staring across the street.

"What did you have in mind?" She demanded, not sounding very willing to negotiate. She followed my gaze.

"Absolutely not. Not a chance. There's no way. Don't even get the idea in your pretty little head. I'd rather have you running."

I just smiled. Later that day I was tearing down the highway on a stolen Harley Davidson, my hair flowing gloriously in the wind. It was exhilarating, even better than running because I expended no energy. I mean, sure, I was a little terrified too considering I couldn't even drive a normal car, let alone a motorcycle, but I seemed to be doing just fine. All those dirt-biking trips with my uncle were paying off.

I was most scared for Sabina and the kids, though. I didn't like leaving them—I had a terrible feeling that something bad was going to happen.

—

Sabina glared at the receding taillights of the motorcycle. She was seething. That stupid, irresponsible, reckless—ugh!

She loaded the kids into the car and drove off, but not towards Alex, just away. She didn't want to be there when the owner of the shiny Harley came out and found it missing. Although, it was kind of his fault for leaving the keys right in the ignition.

"Where did Alex go?" Max asked as Sabina sped away.

"He went to get us some money," she replied.

"Why couldn't we go?"

"Because it's _too dangerous_." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, which Max easily picked up on.

"If you don't agree with him, why don't we just go after him?"

"Because I promised, and grownups don't break promises."

Iggy laughed ironically. "You're kidding, right?" He barked. "That's all grownups ever do, is break promises. They don't know how to _keep_ them."

Sabina swallowed. It bothered her that these little kids were already so cynical. What hope was there for them?

"You were only exposed to the worst kind of grownups," she explained. "Those weren't really grownups at all, but little kids trapped in adult bodies."

"Are they, like aliens?"

"No, they're not _actually_ kids—"

"I knew they were aliens!" Nudge exclaimed. "I knew it."

"They're altering the native species of this planet," Iggy added. "And then they will enslave us all!"

"Why would they make us more difficult to control if they were going to enslave us?" Max demanded, not buying it.

"That's easy. They want us to do work for them. It would be too difficult to enslave, say, a bird, but if they make bird-_humans_—"

He was cut off as Sabina took a sharp U-turn that probably gave the kids whiplash.

"What's going on?" Max asked.

"I'm going after Alex," Sabina admitted. She couldn't take it anymore, not knowing if he was all right.

"But you're breaking your promise."

"_She's an alien too!_" Iggy cried.

"Jeez, I'm not a bloody alien!"

"I didn't say you were a _bloody_—"

"Listen, kids, I know it's wrong of me to break my promise. It's bad and I'm not setting a good example for you and I'm sorry. But sometimes when you love somebody you've got to go back on your word to keep them safe. Sometimes that's all that matters, above all else. That's why Alex left and that's why we're following him. Any questions?"

Gazzy patiently raised his hand.

"Yes, Gazzy?"

"How long has that car been following us?" he asked, his big blue eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror.

Sure enough, a big black car was quickly approaching.

—

I didn't get very far before I was overcome with worry. I couldn't stand it anymore. I popped a wheelie and spun on my back tire, causing it to squeal and kick up the dirt that had blown onto the road.

Only, I'd never driven a motorcycle before, and was totally going off of what I'd seen in the movies. Turns out, popping a wheelie and turning around heroically in a cloud of dust isn't quite as easy as it seems. The bike roared and succumbed to gravity; I leapt off before it collapsed, narrowly avoiding me. I hit the pavement face-first. The engine stalled immediately, and so did my entire freaking body. I coughed as the dirt invaded my lungs and the pain began to set in. Stupid inertia.

"I hate you, Newton," I wheezed as I spit out a mouthful of blood. And a tooth. Nasty.

I got up slowly. The arm that broke my fall throbbed, but I didn't think it was broken. I think my face bore the worst of it. I squinted in the direction I was headed, hearing police sirens in the distance. I coughed again, spewing more blood. I pulled a water bottle out of my backpack with my good arm and gargled briefly, trying to get the copper taste of blood out of my mouth. The missing tooth was a bottom canine, so at least I wouldn't look like a hick all the time. I took off my shirt and used it to produce a make-shift sling for my arm. Taking one final swig of water, I started to jog, then run, and finally sprint towards Sabina.

She wasn't very hard to find. The road curved ahead, but since there was hardly any vegetation I could see her truck in the distance, tearing towards me. And behind her, another car. I cursed to myself. I knew something bad would happen. I kicked it in to high gear, ignoring the protests from my arm. The pain was growing in intensity.

I approached the bar from which we'd stolen the bike, noticing a whole bunch of cop cars. I slowed down and tried to remain inconspicuous.

I failed.

"Hey, you, what are you doing here?" An officer asked me. "Shoot, kid, are you okay?"

I nodded. "I was out for a run…and this guy…his motorcycle…"

"What do you know about a motorcycle, son?"

"I was running and this guy was on a motorcycle and he braked suddenly and flew off and hit me," I said, speaking frantically and trying to sound like a scared kid.

I _was_ a scared kid, after all

"And where did this happen?"

"Up the road, that way." I pointed.

"All right. Thank you for your help. Why don't you go inside, and one of my men will get you to a hospital."

"Okay," I said, attempting to sound sincere and relieved. "Thank you so much."

I walked towards the bar as he pulled out his walkie-talkie and began speaking into it. I glanced back to make sure he wasn't looking, and then started to sprint again. Sabina's car was rapidly approaching.

I bent down and picked up a decently sized rock, mid-stride. The cars continued to approach. I had to act fast.

I was close enough to see Sabina staring at me, wide-eyed, her mouth forming a wordless O. I nodded at her, hoping she would know enough to keep going.

The car was only a few yards away. I felt my heart pound as time slowed down. I bent my knees and sprung up with everything I had. It was like the Matrix, I thought to myself as her car whizzed underneath me. I kicked my legs back and threw both rocks with all the strength I could muster. One hit the front, causing it to smash into a billion pieces. I was poised mid-air amongst thousands of tiny shards of glass. Bullets rang out. The driver veered off the road. I hit the ground on my bad arm and cried out in arm, watching through squinted eyes as the SUV rolled and rolled and finally erupted in a ball of flames.

**AN: I know this was a quick chapter, but I liked ending it where I did. Now that APs are over and school will be over pretty soon, I am a lot less stressed and have a lot more time for things I find enjoyable—i.e. writing (:**

**PS. I saw we hit 100 reviews without me even noticing! You guys rock, seriously!**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Two chapters in three days? Partaay(:**

-Chapter Nineteen-

"Alex got 'em!" Max cried, bouncing up and down and thrusting her fist into the air. "The car exploded!"

That was all Sabina needed to hear. She pulled into the parking lot of the cop-swarmed bar and did a three-point turn, rushing back immediately to attend to Alex. She was so overcome with emotion that her throat began to close up, tears threatening to spill over.

She could hardly believe what he'd done. She remembered the determination in his eyes as he ran at her, the terror in her heart as she thought with conviction that she was about to kill the boy she loved. But of course, he'd jumped up in the nick of time, flying through the air like a superhero. And then he'd gone down just as quickly, landing brutally on the pavement.

She screeched to a halt at the sight of Alex's bloody and crumpled form and threw herself out of the car.

"Alex!" She cried. He twitched. "Alex, talk to me!"

He turned his head, and she saw what a mess he really was. It was like a scene from a horror movie—his face was nothing but two brown eyes mounted on a canvas of red. Sabina heard a car-door opening and shouted to the kids to stay in the car. They didn't need to see this.

Alex tried to smile but it came out as a grimace, revealing a missing tooth on the bottom. His left arm was tangled up in his shirt, and his body was covered in cuts and scrapes, a couple shards of glass sticking out of his torso. Normally it would be rather pleasing for Sabina to see him without his shirt on, but this was gruesome

"Ifine," he slurred.

"You are not fine! You're absolutely crazy! We need to get you to a hospital!"

"Bu' _you're_ okay," he managed.

"I'm not okay! I have to drag your butt to a hospital. And speaking of your butt, what do you think the doctors are going to say when they see your _tail_ sticking out of it?"

He sat up with a struggle and blinked a few times.

"If you're gonna yell at me," he said in a strangled voice, "I'm just gonna go back to sleep."

Sabina's face crumpled as the tears began to stream down her face. She hugged him awkwardly, trying not to disturb his arm or the glass protruding from his abdomen.

"I'm sorry," she cried into his blood-soaked hair. "I'm so sorry. I should have never let you go. I don't mean to yell at you, I'm just so scared. You look so awful."

"_I'm_ sorry," he mumbled back. "I shouldn't have left. That was dumb. I—ahhh."

He winced in pain. Sabina didn't know what to do; she had to stop the bleeding. She decided that she'd rather have the kids see Alex bruised and bloody than to see him dead, so she helped him get to his feet and led him toward the car. He managed to walk pretty well, but was very clearly in agony.

"Maybe we can use your shirt to stop the bleeding," Alex suggested innocently through gritted teeth.

"Very funny. We're already at the car, though. Too bad. Maybe next time."

Max jumped out of the car as they approached, and rushed forward with several elastic bandages, while Fang followed holding a couple ripped-up t-shirts and some hydrogen peroxide.

"We have to get the glass out first," Max said. "It doesn't look like it's in too deep. Fang, be ready with the shirts. Sabina, start taping up his arm." She tossed a bandage at a baffled Sabina. "Well, what are you waiting for? Alex is losing blood as we speak."

—

It would be one thing to have Sabina see me weak, but the kids? I couldn't bear it. I clamped my teeth down and promised myself that I would not, under any circumstances, cry out in pain.

But oh, how I wanted to.

Pain was everywhere; it was everything. There was the bone deep agony of my arm, the stabbing pain of the glass in my stomach, the aching of my entire face.

Distantly, I heard Max barking orders at Fang and Sabina who worked hard to fix me up. I couldn't stop the low grunt from escaping through the base of my throat as Sabina wrapped my arm, or the miniscule whimper that forced its way through my lips as Max ripped a large glass fragment from my torso. The world began to spin and dim at the same time.

"Alex? Alex, can you hear me?"

Yeah, I could hear Sabina, but I knew that if I opened my mouth I wouldn't be able to stop myself from screaming like a little baby. I kept my mouth sealed tight.

"Look at me Alex."

I did. She looked beautiful.

She clutched my face in her hands and stared into my eyes. Hers were bloodshot from crying, but still remarkably pretty.

"His pupils are dilated. Alex, did you hit your head?"

I tried to make an 'are you kidding me' face, but I don't think I conveyed it very well. Obviously I hit my head. That was a stupid question. The world spun faster, and I could hardly make out Sabina's face. She said something more, but it sounded like she was underwater.

I started to close my eyes, but was jerked back awake by the exhilarating feeling of cold water pouring over my head. I gasped for air as the water continued to rush over me.

"You can't fall asleep," Sabina said, her voice sounding clearer. "I think you have a concussion. We have to take you to the hospital: we have no other choice."

"Well, we're screwed then."

—

Sabina had to give the name and number of her parents to the lady working at the hospital. She felt terrible doing so, but what else was she going to do? The credit card was still on its way, and it would end up at her house anyway. Her parents were bound to figure this out sooner or later, and she had didn't have the funds to pay for the trip to the emergency room.

The doctors took good care of Alex, though. While his DNA was altered, his blood was still human, so that wasn't going to be much of an issue. The kids sat huddled in the corner of the room with Sabina while the doctors hooked Alex up to an IV and coursed new blood into his veins. The doctors asked Alex's 'friends' to leave, but they refused. They're little solemn faces and wide eyes made it difficult for the doctors to argue.

He was diagnosed with a concussion and a broken arm, and lost a whole lot of blood. They took him into a separate room to re-break and set the arm, which Sabina was thankful for. She wasn't about to sit around and watch that.

As the sun began to set, the doctors finished what they needed to do and left the room for the night. The kids fell asleep piled on top of one and other in the corner: Max and Fang had their arms around each other, and Iggy cradled Angel to his chest while being tangled together with Gazzy and Nudge. Sabina had her chair pulled up right next to Alex's hospital cot.

"We have to get out of here," Alex whispered, looking marginally better with less blood on his face and more in his veins.

"Not tonight," Sabina murmured. "Tonight you're going to rest."

"It's not safe, though," he argued.

"It's never safe. Shh, don't wake the kids."

He peered over at the kids. "They're really cute, aren't they."

Sabina nodded. "Smart, too. You should have seen Max today. Totally blew my mind."

Alex wrapped his good hand around Sabina's, causing her heart to nearly leap out of its spot in her chest. She tried to read his eyes, but they revealed nothing.

"I'm sorry I scared you today," he said softly, his voice sweet and tender. "I'm sorry I put you through that."

"It's okay," she managed to croak out, feeling the lump forming in her throat again.

With a significant struggle, he sat up just enough to kiss her, as gently as possible on the lips, and then thumped back on to the cot.

"That was for agreeing to help me, and for putting up with my antics," he whispered.

Sabina leaned forward and kissed him back, just as softly.

"That was because I love you," she breathed. His eyebrows raised hopefully, and his mouth broke out into a big grin with a missing tooth.

"I love you too," he said. It was a nice thought to fall asleep to.

—

Fang woke up and realized that he was hugging Max.

Ew. He looked down and saw her determined little face relaxed; it was a strange sight for Fang, who only ever saw her looking rough and defiant. He noticed that Sabina and Alex were hugging, too, and he decided that maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Max was pretty cool. And pretty pretty, which didn't hurt.

She began to wake up, and he quickly shoved her aside to avoid embarrassment. He couldn't have her waking up to find him hugging her. She would think he was a creepy with a capital _K_.

She rubbed her eyes and leveled a glare at him.

"What was that for?" She demanded.

"Sorry, I just woke up," he explained.

"So you had to throw me across the room?" She rubbed her wing angrily.

"Yeah. Come on, let's go exploring."

This evidently perked her up. She was on her feet instantly, with her wings spread out behind her—because why not? Fang spread his out, too, and it felt really good. After being cramped up in a cage for years and then in a car for some time, it was refreshing to get to stretch out.

"I wish we could just fly all day," Max said.

"Me too."

"Come on, let's get out of here."

They threw jackets on to hide their wings as they ran through the almost empty hospital, side by side. Max giggled as she took the lead.

"I'm winning!" She cried.

"Not for long!"

They raced down the halls until a nurse yelled at them and told them to go back to their rooms. They shared a sidelong glance and then broke out into hysteric laughter again.

"Let's go fly," Max suggested. They made their way to an elevator, and told the receptionist that their parents were waiting outside for them as they strolled out.

"I'll race ya on the count of three," Max said as they pulled off their jackets and tied them around their tiny waists.

"One…two…three!"

The two bird-kids sprinted forward, hopped on two separate cars, and took to the sky. Fang smiled as he unfurled his wings, letting the wind kiss his midnight-black feathers. It felt so glorious, so natural. He felt so free.

"We were made to do this," Max reveled as they flew side by side, just close enough to talk without hitting each other.

"Looks like those bums at the school did something right," Fang smirked.

"I'd say. Alex's powers are cool, too, but it's too bad he can't fly."

"Do you think Sabina is Alex's wife now?" Fang wondered. Max considered.

"I don't know, probably. She said she loved him, didn't she?"

"I think so."

They continued to fly, and Fang's chest felt kind of funny as he watched Max spin around, with the moonlight on her face. She looked so happy, so carefree, so…pretty. He remembered all the times in the cages, how cool she'd been even when she was miserable. How she'd said sarcastic things to evil people holding deadly medicine, how she'd tried to make him smile after a long day of experiments, how she'd flipped out on the whitecoats after they messed up Iggy's eyes.

"Max, do you want to be my wife?" Fang wondered, not completely sure what that meant but knowing all of the sudden that he really _really_ liked her.

She made a face. "Ew, Fang, then we'd have to, like, kiss and stuff."

He frowned. That was kind of the point. But he didn't want to embarrass himself, especially in front of Max. "Oh, yeah, gross, cooties," he muttered.

He tried not to think about it as they flew around some more, dipping and turning and working on perfecting their clumsy flying. He tried not to think about how he was pretty sure he'd just been rejected. But they had bigger fish to fry.

"Fang, look down there. Look how fast that truck is going. It looks like one of the Eraser trucks."

Fang swooped down to get a closer look. The truck did look a lot like an Eraser truck, and the people inside did look sort of evil. He wasn't really sure how to tell if they were Erasers or not, but the guy driving looked pretty hairy. It was a little extra suspicious, since they were going way above the speed limit and headed in the direction of the hospital.

"We can't risk it," Max said when he returned to her and told her what he was thinking. "We've got to get out everybody out of there."

They spun around and took off back through the night sky to warn their friends about the imminent danger. Fang pumped his tired wings as quickly as he could, hoping with everything in his little heart that they could get back faster than the truck below them.

**AN: How do you guys like the peak into the mind of a young Fang? I tried to make it as ten-year-old as possible without losing Fang's and Max's major characteristics [:**


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